JMRD4: Summer Rain
by Lilac Reverie
Summary: John & Mike & Rose & Donna, Part Four. With the entire clan gathered under one roof for a month at the beach, what secrets will come spilling out? And who is that coming up the walk? Who will be my surprise guest stars this time?
1. Prologue: Rose

_**Author's Note:** This is the fourth entry in my series John&Mike&Rose&Donna, taking place about three years after _Elements. _It's going to be a low-key, 'human' romantic drama_,_ about the relationships between the various characters. (So for readers looking for another exciting SciFi adventure: this isn't it.)_

_Enjoy..._

_Disclaimer (I keep forgetting): not mine, but I can't keep my hands off 'em._

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**Prologue - Rose**

From: Rose

To: Mum

Subject: Holiday!

Dear Mum:

I know I've said this before, many times, and I'll say it again many more, but I am so incredibly grateful that Torchwood there was able to figure out what was wrong with the TARDIS coral, so we could email each other. Yeah, phone calls would have been better, but getting your words and all the pics you send makes my week every time! I miss you and Dad and Tony so much. Don't ever think I don't.

Give Tony a huge hug for me, and tell him congrats on his team winning the Regionals. He looks so smart in his football uniform – so grown up. Sixteen... I can't believe it. Bet he's beating the girls off with a stick!

Oh, I have the most incredible news! Seems Mike's been holding out on me and John, and all the rest of them were in on the secret. He wrote a book! No, not a repeat of the kids books he and John wrote there in that world, a whole new adult sci-fi fantasy book! It's called Summer Rain, and he told John (when he finally 'fessed up) that it's based on some old Gallifreyan legends, from their home world.

Now it's been published, and guess what! It shot straight to the top of the bestseller list! (I'm so happy for him – I think he finally feels like he's got something entirely of his own making, and not from John, that he can be proud of.)

Soooooo, to celebrate, he's gone and rented this _humongous_ old beach house in the USA for an entire month, and invited everyone to join in! There's going to be _eleven_ of us: Mike, Donna, their three kids; me, John, and Davey; Sylvia and Grandad Wilf, and Hannah, too. It had _better_ be as big as advertised! :D

Oh, I forgot to say where. I had to look it up in the library. It's in a tiny little town called Summerville (appropriate, yeah?) on Hatteras Island, a huge long skinny spit of land off the east coast – North Carolina. It's back of beyond for sure – Mike said we won't be bothered by summer tourist hordes that way. I don't even know if there's going to be any shops or pubs there. We'll see.

Mike and Wilf flew over yesterday, human style, and hired a car to drive from the nearest airport, which is all the way up in Virginia, the next state north. I'm trying to get used to how huge the states are over there. Looking at the map, it seems like it might take them all day just to drive it. Anyway, John and I are piling everybody else into the TARDIS and taking them the fast way tomorrow. Mike's doing it this way so we at least have some kind of local transportation, and to give John a target to land the TARDIS on after he signs for the house.

So the next email you get should have some pretty spectacular pics of the beach attached! It looks like it stretches on forever...

Gotta run, Donna's calling. We're going with her to watch the twins' last football game of the season before we take off "across the pond". They didn't make the Regionals, sadly, but maybe next year!

Ta-ra! Love to everyone!


	2. Donna

**Donna**

"Oh. My. GOD!" Donna spun around on her heel on the tiles. "This isn't a summer house, it's a ruddy _palace!"_

The other newcomers heartily agreed, slowly turning in the central courtyard of their home for the next month and taking it all in. The house proved to be a grand mediterranean-style villa, three full floors wrapped around three sides of said courtyard, complete with tinkling fountain in the center of the painted tiles. Arches and covered walkways and brilliantly blooming bougainvillea crowning gleaming white stucco walls were everywhere, and a boardwalk bridged the gap from the middle-floor balcony to the tall dunes separating the house from the wide sandy beach. The opening of the U faced the road, away from the beach, containing the elaborate wrought-iron gate through the high stucco wall; the front half of the courtyard thereby doubled as the driveway between gate and multi-car garage underneath the house proper. The rest of the ground floor was devoted to various storage and work rooms, keeping the living areas up out of hurricane-induced flood danger.

The top floor was given over to a dozen bedrooms of various sizes, each with its own private balcony overlooking beach or courtyard, and three positively sybaritic bathrooms. All the common rooms were in the middle level, which was split right in two by a large, covered breezeway-balcony, which tunneled through the entire bottom of the U between courtyard and dunes. A complete bamboo living room set upholstered in tough outdoor fabric complemented the patio-style tables and chairs on the carpeted balcony – and now also a familiar blue wooden box tucked into one corner, out of the sun. Kitchen, formal dining room, indoor living room, TV room (more properly called a private theater), library, bathrooms, and all kinds of nooks and crannies were arrayed on both wings of that middle floor. And finally, a pair of large cupolas crowned the two seaside corners, with an open widow's walk running between them on the roof. The southern cupola was open to the breeze on all sides, while the northern one was closeable with glass and shutters in each window.

"Like it?" Mike grinned at his wife.

She gaped at him, duh! Then, in a scandalized whisper, she asked, "But how much did it _cost?_"

He grimaced. "Don't worry about it, love. _Summer Rain's_ paying for this, and there's plenty left over." He waved her off and turned to the kids. "Who's for the beach?"

The chorus of ME!s threatened to drown out Rose's "Take your bags to your rooms _first_, 'cause I'm not carrying them all in!" but she got it in anyway – because they had to dig out their swimsuits. A tour of the house was thereby called for, and the bedrooms aportioned out. Hannah was instinctively drawn to the north cupola, closing the shutters against the direct sun and turning it into an artist's retreat, and then she imperiously drafted the Doctor into helping her move her paintings and canvases and paraphernalia she'd insisted on bringing up the three flights to her new aerie. He shared an exasperated look with his twin for their mother's attitude, and got to work, grumbling under his breath.

Personal bags properly dumped in each room, the kids threw on their swimsuits and besieged Mike to take them across the dunes, and he laughingly complied, dragooning Grandad Wilf into helping him ride herd and leaving Donna, Sylvia, and Rose to make the multiple trips from TARDIS to kitchen with their supply of food. "Tell me again why we brought an entire market with us?" queried Sylvia.

"Because there isn't a market in town, only a tiny convenience store," replied Donna. "Mike said the nearest grocery is back up in Nag's Head, and that's a couple of hours away – and probably twice as expensive as our market at home. And I'm NOT eating every single meal in the two restaurants here in Summerville; that'd be both ridiculously expensive, and boring to boot."

"Oh. That's why. Good thinking," replied her mother, only slightly put out. There were a LOT of bags to carry in. "Remind me to thank Mike for spotting the TARDIS on this floor, rather than down below in the courtyard."

Donna grinned. "Hark at you, now! Anybody'd think you'd been traveling by TARDIS for years, rather than this being your second whole trip in her!" The first had been a visit to Rome on a whim a couple of years before, a surprise for Sylvia's birthday. Sylvia simply smiled, sphinx-like.

Trips done, the two Nobles waived Rose off to join the fun at the beach, saying they'd put it all away themselves. They worked in silence for a bit, but Sylvia kept shooting curious glances at her daughter. Finally, she spoke up. "OK, girlie. What's going on?"

Donna turned a confused face. "What are you talking about?"

"Between you and Mike. Something's off. What is it?" Subtlety had never been her strong suit.

"Nothing's off, Mum. We're fine!"

"Donna. Don't give me that, I've known you too long." She stepped over to Donna, putting both hands on her shoulders and stopping her. "What's going on?"

Donna sighed. "I don't know. It's... Honestly, Mum, it's nothing. It's no big deal. Mike's just... he's just been a bit quiet lately. I don't know why."

"Quiet?"

"Yeah. Quiet. Restless. Distracted. Tired. Distant." Now that the words had started, they didn't seem to want to stop, and she kept finding new ones at the tip of her tongue. She caught herself then, and shut her mouth with a pop. "It's nothing, Mum," she repeated. "He's just been working hard on his book, that's all."

"He finished writing that thing months ago, Donna," her mum reminded her. She turned back to her cabinet and resumed putting up boxes of cereal. "It's not the book. Something else is going on." She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter gazing into space out the window. "Have you been treating him right?"

"What?"

"You know what I mean."

"Mum! None of your business!" Donna flushed and didn't turn. Something on the breezeway caught her eye and she peered closer: Rose and the Doctor were having a private conversation. An intense one, from the unhappy look on Rose's face.

"Well, I'm just asking. 'Cause if you ask me, and you didn't, all those things you just mentioned point to one thing." She didn't continue, waiting for Donna to ask.

Finally, Donna gave an exasperated sigh and obliged her. "What's that, Mum?"

"He's having a midlife crisis."

Donna spluttered. "A _midlife crisis!_ Don't be ridiculous, Mum! The man's over _nine hundred years old! _Well, not literally _him_, the Doctor is, but since Mike's got all his memories from before Mike was born, it's the same thing."

"So? All the more reason for him to be bothered by the fact that he has only a few decades left – and I've seen those gray hairs at his temple."

Donna snorted, but she was speechless. _That couldn't be it, could it? A midlife crisis? __Mike__? No way._ But the idea wouldn't go away.

"I'm telling you, dear, that's what it is." The groceries all put away, Sylvia turned and began walking out of the kitchen, tossing a last dig over her shoulder. "All that's missing is the red sports car."

Donna was staring out the window again. "Or the younger blonde," she whispered to herself.

The Doctor had reached towards his wife, placating, but Rose threw both hands up, warding him off. Then she shook her head at him, turned and stumbled towards the boardwalk bridge, but not before Donna caught a glimpse of tears.


	3. Davey

**Davey**

"_Promise_ you won't tell anybody, especially Mum and Dad?"

"I promise."

"I'm going to be an actress!"

He snorted, and she looked wounded. "Stop laughing! I'm _serious!"_

"I think they already know that, Goosey. _Everybody_ knows that's what you're going to be. You already _are_ one."

"A _great_ one?" she asked slyly.

"Of course you are. Lucy Smith, the next... the next Keira Knightley! She'd better watch out!"

She pulled a face, even as she looked pleased – a difficult feat even for some grown actresses, let alone those not quite nine years old. "Eeeeew, no, not Smith. I can't use _that_ name, Davey, nobody will take me seriously!"

"So, you got your screen name all picked out, then?"

She struck a dramatic pose on the sand. "Lucy Noble, at your service, sir!" she told him airily, then managed a creditable deep, formal curtsey – though the lack of a sweeping skirt somewhat hampered her gravitas.

Playing back to her, as he always did, Davey solemnly took her proffered hand and bowed over it. "Milady." He'd been her staunchest supporter since she was born, as the twins had always had each other first, and naturally ganged up on their fey younger sister as often as not. Just as naturally, whenever he was around, her kind-hearted cousin took up her defense, for which she rewarded him with equal devotion.

Bursting into a fit of giggles at their own whimsy, the cousins turned without a word and went back to hunting seashells, Davey glancing back to make sure they hadn't wandered too far from the others. He could still make out that it was Lyra splashing Loren at the moment, so he figured they were OK. Besides, Grandad Wilf was trailing slowly along behind them, halfway back to the others.

"So, you're gonna have your birthday here, huh?" he asked her.

"Yup! Two weeks from yesterday!" came the proud reply. Then, conspiratorially, "Did you see if anybody brought any presents in the TARD'?"

"Nah, I didn't see any. But who knows? You could hide a whole planet in the TARD' and nobody would know."

Lucy giggled. "Imagine getting a whole planet as a birthday present! I'd like that!"

He grinned back. "OK, Miss Noble. I'll give you one. Which one would you like?"

"Hmmmmm – oh, I know! Saturn, so I can wear the rings!" He grinned at her again, and forbore reminding her of the size of those rings.

"Why don't you go to school like me and the Big Brats?" Lucy wanted to know.

"Cause my... my Dad's teaching me, and my Mum. I'm being home-schooled, she says."

"In the TARD'?"

"Yeah."

She stopped and looked at him, pouring as much innocence into her green eyes as she could. "Does that make you a re-TARD?"

His jaw dropped, but then he caught the grin lurking below the surface, and simply glared. "Lu-uce! Don't _say_ that!" His voice was full of hurt.

She took pity then, and gave him a swift, contrite hug. "Sorry. I didn't mean it. But really... don't you want to go to school?"

"But I'm learning all kinds of things – Dad says I'm way ahead of all you guys, maybe even college level."

"But you don't have any friends. Aren't you lonely? And you don't know stuff like football." The other day at the twins' game, the first he'd ever seen, Lucy had to explain every little detail to her thirteen-year-old cousin, whispering intently so that the other kids on the sideline didn't hear and laugh at him again.

Davey had sputtered to another stop, staring at his bare feet. When she turned and looked back from several feet ahead, he slowly raised his eyes to her, and after a long pause, simply nodded. Some things are too deep for words. She transferred her shell bucket to her other side, and held her hand out to him. He likewise shifted his bucket, and the two kids continued their shell hunt, hand in hand, in comfortable silence.

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_**A/N:** as a matter of absolutely no consequence whatsoever, since it's not integral to the plot, I'm of course referring to British "football" throughout, soccer to us Yanks. Just making that clear._


	4. Bonfire

**Bonfire**

That first evening the clan started what quickly became their nightly ritual: a bonfire on the beach. One of the storerooms on the ground floor contained a treasure trove of beach toys, including a dozen high-backed, short-legged folding canvas beach chairs. Mike and the Doctor carried all of them up and across the bridge, then down to a sheltered gap between two high dunes where a large pile of charred wood and ashes revealed it a favorite spot for such fires. When Donna unearthed a dozen long-handled skewers in a kitchen drawer, and produced both hot dogs and marshmallows from the grocery cache, it was a done deal.

Soon the cheerfully crackling flames had a full circle of admirers, and even Hannah was coaxed away from her latest masterpiece to join the party. As the sun set over Pamlico Sound, eleven contented travelers relaxed back in their chairs, desultorily browning marshmallows and enjoying the gooey sweetness.

Rose smiled across the flames at their host. "Thank you, Mike, for bringing us here. For the first time in fourteen years, I don't hate the beach any more."

Wilf was puzzled. "Why would you hate the beach, sweetheart?"

She gave him an ironic glance. "I have some pretty bad memories of the beach – a certain beach, anyway." She turned the other way and gazed at the Doctor, memories of both visits to Bad Wolf Bay almost visibly playing behind her eyes. He solemnly looked back, then held out his hand across the tiny gap between their chairs. Significantly, he didn't pick up her hand, but waited for her to reach back for his, and when she did so, it was with an air of apology. Then she hitched her chair to touch his, and rested her head on his shoulder; and he leaned his cheek onto her hair, sighing softly.

More than one pair of eyes caught the entire little scene, each wondering what it was about. Whatever had been between them looked like it was patched up now. Donna snuck a peek sideways at Mike, her breath catching at the unguarded look of longing written on his face, before he deliberately dropped his eyes back to the fire as if tearing his gaze away from a painful sight.

"Do you remember the beach on Irrigon Island, Doctor?" came Hannah's voice, the only adult who had not been watching the couple. "And the fires they lit there for the Feast of Centuries?" She had decided not to cut the long ginger hair her regeneration after rescuing Rose from the Immortality Gate had given her, and the long curly tresses tumbled around her shoulders, catching the fire and reflecting it. She stared into the flames as if mesmerized, seeing scenes from so long ago.

"No, actually I don't," the Doctor replied. "I don't think I ever went there."

He may as well have not spoken at all. "The fires ringed the entire island, one for every century of the Time Lords' existence." Her voice seemed to come from as far away as the memories. "And we each walked the sacred path of history, stopping at each fire to remember and reflect. The fires burned all night, until the morning tide put them out and washed away the ashes. And after the tide receded, it was as if they had never been."

"What did you eat at the feast?" Sylvia asked her, a hint of weariness in her voice. She got no answer, though; Hannah simply continued staring silently into the flames. Sylvia shared a glance with Donna and shrugged.

The twins distracted everyone then by getting into a squabble over whose turn it was to roast the next marshmallow – for some incomprehensible twinnish reason they'd insisted on sharing a skewer. Mike growled at them to stow it, and without any segue at all, they were off into an argument over how many sand dollars each of them had gathered that afternoon. Mike just shook his head, grinning ruefully across the fire. "ADOS," he commented to the group in general.

"ADOS?" queried Rose.

"Runs in the family. Attention Deficit – Ooh! Shiny!" he grinned.

Rose giggled. "On this side it's more often Attention Deficit – Oh! Slitheen!"

Donna: "I prefer Oi! Spaceman!"

Wilf: "While the rest of us poor slobs are stuck dealing with ADHD: Aliens Descending! Help! Doctor!" He turned to grin at the Time Lord, who returned it.

"To which I respond with GRAY! Grab Rose – _Allons-Y!_" His grin widened at their collective groans – then he ducked as they pelted him with marshmallows. "Oi!" And he began grabbing the puffs and throwing them back.

They quickly found themselves lined up naturally in two teams: the Doctor, Rose, Davey and Lucy on one side, with Donna, Mike and the twins on the other. The other three remained carefully neutral, Sylvia and her dad chortling at the various antics, while Hannah simply gaped, dumbstruck. Sadly, it didn't take long before the marshmallows were exhausted, falling into sand or fire or – a lucky few – into the combatants' mouths. As the last one bounced off Mike's head and sailed into the dark, they collapsed back into their chairs, giggling.

Mike noticed Hannah's expression, then. "What? Haven't you ever seen a food fight before?"

"A food fight?" she echoed faintly.

"Better a food fight on the beach than a cat fight!" Donna put in gaily, before turning to the kids. "OK, gang, it's late – especially with this time change. Off to bed!" Busy gathering the younger generation up and chivvying them across the bridge, she missed the Doctor and Rose exchanging puzzled glances. Then they shrugged, and began carefully putting out the fire.


	5. Michael

**Michael**

Very early the next morning, Mike opened his eyes in the predawn darkness. He'd never needed much sleep, not as much as most humans. He lay on his back for a while, watching the fog outside the balcony doors slowly light up with the dawn.

_Is this all my life is now? Is this all there will ever be? Books and tea and holidays by the seaside? There used to be so much more..._

The lightest of snores came from his right, and he turned that way to look at Donna's profile. He'd heard her crying, very softly, last night after they'd gone to bed, but when he'd put a hand on her shoulder, she'd pretended sleep. Now, at least, she looked peaceful.

_Of course I love her,_ he answered his own internal interrogator. _She's my wife, my partner. We're part of each other, always have been. We're comfortable with each other._

_So why am I so unhappy? _

He sighed and turned back the other way to watch the fog again. _You're supposed to be content, nitwit. You're living out the Doctor's dream: a simple, single, finite human life. The perfect retirement after nine hundred years._

He snorted softly. _Right. Who am I kidding? I got the retirement, he got the prize._

As always when his mental train reached this station, he suddenly couldn't sit still any longer. He slipped silently out of bed and pulled on a pair of running shorts and a sweatshirt, lacing up his Converse – some things never changed. Then he snuck downstairs and walked quietly through the breezeway, doing his best to ignore the TARDIS in the corner.

Reaching the beach, he realized the visibility through the fog was down to only a few yards at a time, so he grabbed one of the chairs from the circle and brought it out to face the ocean in front of the boardwalk as a signpost for his return. Then did a few stretches, and began walking south towards the lighthouse on the distant point, sending its pulsing, mournful warning out to passing ships. His usual routine was a mile walk, eight or ten running, then walking the last mile back.

Slipping in and out of patches of fog, he'd gone about a quarter mile before the footprints registered. Someone else was already out for a morning walk along the strand – well, many of the other houses along this stretch also had their summer inhabitants.

A bit further and he spotted the shadowy figure ahead of his unknown companion, walking much more slowly with their head down. He didn't want to startle whoever it was, or intrude on their thoughts, so he began to swerve seaward to go around them when suddenly he realized who it was and halted in his tracks, hesitating.

Just as he did so, she also stopped, turning to face the surf barely visible a few yards away. She wrapped her arms around her torso – then reached one hand up to wipe at her face, and Mike realized she was crying.

"Rose?" he called softly, still not wanting to startle her. She gasped, then turned her face away from him, hunching her shoulders. He walked closer. No matter what else, seeing her cry tore his heart out. "Rose, what is it? What's wrong?"

She snorted softly, then shook her head and started to turn back towards him. "You know what's wrong. Why can't we... Oh. Mike." She turned quickly back away from him again, wiping at her face and sniffing.

"You thought I was him."

"Well, your voices do sound remarkably similar," she replied after a moment, trying for a light, teasing tone and failing miserably.

"Imagine that!" he tried to help out, and also failed. "Rose. Tell me what's wrong. What's going on?" He reached her side and, feeling greatly daring, put one light, tentative hand on her shoulder.

Her eyes screwed tightly shut, tears squeezing out the cracks. She pressed the knuckles of one hand against her mouth and struggled to breathe for a moment, then finally turned back to him. "I almost lost him the other day, and I'm not handling it well."

"Lost him...?"

She nodded. "There's a reason he hasn't taken off his shirt. He's got a bandage underneath it, where he was shot. He almost..." She couldn't say the word.

"Almost regenerated?" She nodded again. He sighed, helpless.

Her face twisted. "I'm so afraid of losing him..." she sobbed, and the tears came in earnest. He reached out then and gathered her up into his arms, and she stiffened just for a moment, then gave in, sagging against him and letting it out. For several long minutes he stood there and held her, one foot in paradise, the other in hell.

When her tears slowed, she pulled away, and he let her go. She didn't look at him as she turned back to face the water, and simply sank down to sit on the spot, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. He tucked his long legs up and sat beside her, shoulders not quite touching, and watched the waves, now growing steadily more visible as the early morning sun began to burn off the fog.

"Am I selfish, Mike?" she asked softly. "For hoping I die before my husband does?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

After another long silence, he had to break it. "Rose, I..."

She was shaking her head. "No. Please don't."

His heart was breaking all over again. "Please. Let me say this, just once, and then I _swear_ I will never mention it again. I just need to say it, just this once."

She closed her eyes, but didn't say anything. He took that as permission.

"I love you, Rose. I always have, and I always will." He shook his head, even though she hadn't moved to protest. "It's got nothing to do with my love for Donna. Yes, I do love her; she's my wife, the mother of my children. But I love you, too. And there's nothing I can do about it. Never was. I was born to love you." Turning back to the water again, he sighed deeply. "I know you belong to him, and always will. I know that. I just want you to remember one thing. If you ever... need a place to stay, there will _always_ be a place for you, wherever I am, on _whatever terms you dictate_." She looked at him, then, and he saw she understood the significance of the last phrase. He held her eyes with his a moment longer, then gave her the tiniest rueful smile. "End of spiel."

She looked down at the sand and nodded, and for another long while they sat in silence. Spying a curved edge by her bare feet, she fished out a perfect, unbroken sand dollar and held it, running her fingers over it like a talisman.

"Can I ask you a question?" he broke the silence. She nodded, and he went on, hesitantly. "Do you think... if he hadn't come back... do you think we could have made it?"

She took a deep breath, considering, then finally nodded. "Possibly. Yeah. At least... I'm sure we both would have tried our very best."

A beat, then he whispered, "Thank you."

She glanced sideways. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry, Mike. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through all these years." She put the sand dollar into his hand, and started to get to her feet – then halfway up, leaned over and kissed his cheek. Then she swiftly rose up and began walking back towards the house.

He pulled himself up and watched her walk away. Again. As always.

When she was gone, disappeared into the mist, he stood there for several more heartbeats, then sorrowfully turned to return to his run.

And stopped cold. There, several yards away, staring at him with agony etched deeply into his face, stood the Doctor.


	6. The Doctor

**The Doctor**

Mike and his twin stood in a frozen tableau, staring at each other for an endless moment. It was the Doctor who looked away first, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain and starting to turn away.

"Oh, no you don't," Mike growled. "Just stop right there. I am NOT going through that again. Not this time." Caught, the Doctor looked sideways at him again, and Mike went on, answering the question in his eyes. "That's right. Same shit, different day. She's still yours. Always was, always will be. You just need to _talk_ to her, you stupid..." He shut his mouth on the expletives that wanted to follow; they wouldn't make him feel any better.

The Doctor hung his head for a moment, then raised it to search the foggy sky as if looking for his own common sense. A rueful, pain-filled smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he nodded. "Now is not the time..." he murmured. Then, catching Mike's outraged reaction, he threw his hands up to ward him off, spluttering wordlessly. "Dit-dit-dit-dit-dit-dit-dit-dit – that's _not_ what it sounded like." He snorted. "Pete's advice, remember? – No, you were already born; you didn't hear it. Um..."

"You're babbling," Mike said flatly, _so_ not interested in the Doctor's propensity for running his gob at the moment.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath, and faced the other squarely. "Pete gave me some advice, back then – I just wish I'd listened to it better. He said, 'women can talk your ear off, and it's the easiest thing in the world to tune them out. The trick is learning when to do that, and when not to. Now is not the time.'" He sighed heavily. "Why do I keep having to learn the same lesson over and over again?" he asked rhetorically.

Mike couldn't resist the obvious opportunity. "Because you're a Class A Idiot. Always have been, always will be," he said bitterly.

"Yeah." Another deep breath, and the Doctor nodded to his twin, then turned walk past him, following Rose back up the beach. He paused after a few steps, turning back as an idea struck. "Mind taking Davey for the day?"

Mike's turn to sigh, gazing at the empty sand. "Sure."

Another couple of steps. "Can we take the car?"

This time he snorted. "Just gas it back up."

"Thanks, dad."

He still didn't get very far up the beach. A dozen steps later and Mike's voice came, loud and harsh. "_Hey!_" The Doctor turned back to meet his brother's eyes, and all Mike's pain came pouring out of them. ""Do you have ANY idea how much you owe me?" His voice was broken, the words torn out from deep inside.

The Doctor nodded, slowly. "Yeah. I do. The trouble is... I don't have the slightest idea how to begin paying it back." He paused, then unknowingly echoed Rose. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry."

It was Mike's turn to tear his eyes away, and he stared at the dunes beginning to become visible as the fog continued to lift. "Well," he said softly. "That's a start."

^..^

The Doctor found Rose a short time later sitting at the breakfast table with Donna and Sylvia. She'd refused any food, and was simply holding her coffee cup and staring into its depths as if divining the future from the swirls of cream. Before she'd even registered his appearance, he plucked the mug from her hands and set it on the table, then took both her hands in his and gently pulled her around in her chair as he knelt down beside it.

"I'm sorry," he began. "You've been trying to tell me something, and I haven't been listening. I'm ready to listen now."

She tightened her grip on his hands, and squeezed her eyes closed against the tears, unable to speak.

The Doctor looked across the table at Donna, deciding instantly not to give any clue that he'd run into Mike already. "Mind if we trade for the day? A kid for a car?"

She nodded, grinning, and reached for the key sitting on the counter behind her, tossing it to him. "On one condition," she added. "If you happen to run across a grocery, we could use some more milk."

.

.

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_**A/N:** This story seems to be unfolding in VERY short scenes. Hopefully some longer ones are in the future, but no promises._


	7. Rose

**Rose**

"Ah, now, isn't this magnificent! The very spot where human heavier-than-air flight was born!" The Doctor spun on his heel, taking in the Wright Brothers Memorial at Kill Devil Hills. The highest stable spot on the barrier islands at all of ninety feet, the hill that launched mankind into the air now sported a gleaming white granite monument to the vision of the two brothers so long before.

He turned back to Rose and held out his hand, smiling at only her – and waggled his fingers suggestively. Laughing at the reminder, she slipped underneath the hand, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting him pull her close to his side. "Mmmmmm," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I got you out of that house so we could talk, and the whole way up here, you never said a word. Cassandra got your tongue?"

She smiled up at him. "Just enjoying the wonderful feeling of having you all to myself for a bit. It doesn't happen all that often any more."

"No, it doesn't, does it? We should sneak out like this more often." He turned to face her squarely then, lacing his fingers behind her back and gazing solemnly into her beloved eyes. "Now. I'm listening. What is it you need to tell me?"

"It's just... I'm just so afraid of losing you. I can't bear the thought of it." She pulled one hand back around and laid it lightly on the side of his stomach, over the new scar hidden by his shirt. "This was just too close. It scared me, so much."

"Yes, it was. It scared me, too, love. That's why I've been avoiding talking about it." He pulled her tight to his chest again and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair. "So what do you want to do about it? Stop traveling?"

She shook her head. "No. I _love_ traveling, I _love_ our life. I just wish it weren't so dangerous." Pulling back again, she peeked up at him through her lashes, minxlike. "You are, without a doubt, the most danger-magnetic individual in the history of – history."

"Oi! Me? You're the one who's jeopardy-friendly!"

"Hah! I haven't gotten us into a tenth as many scrapes as you have! Besides," she added, diverting him, "not traveling wouldn't stop it. How many times have we been sitting tamely here on Earth and trouble just falls out of the sky on top of us?"

"A lot of times," he agreed ruefully. "You're right on that score. So..."

"So, just try not to be so foolhardy, all right? There wasn't any need for you to go rushing into the king's private chamber, for heaven's sake. Of _course_ his guard took exception, even if you _were_ only trying to warn him about the conspiracy. Please, darling. Just be more careful! Our lives are dangerous enough without you running into friendly swords. Okay?"

"Okay. I promise. And maybe... maybe we should take it easy for a while. Stay places longer, and not move around so often."

"Give trouble a chance to find us instead of us finding it?" she asked impishly.

"Exactly!" he grinned back.

"I like that idea," she said softly, and pulled his head down to kiss her seal of approval on the deal.

The couple spent a thoroughly enjoyable morning amidst the tourists on the north end of the island, taking a long, leisurely stroll around the Memorial grounds while the Doctor described the thrilling scenes from a century before. "Unfortunately, I was already there, so I can't take you now. I would have loved for you to watch them," he told her regretfully.

"What, and ruin the day by bringing down aliens on their heads?" she asked, imp back. "Mankind might never have taken to the skies in that case!"

"Well, seeing as how there were several other teams around the world vying for the same thing, I doubt that. But you have a point," he grinned back.

After lunch in a nearby seafood shack, they started back – but then Rose spotted Jockey's Ridge, the long, high, massive sandy dune that occasionally, depending on the weather conditions, topped out over Kill Devil Hill, and they stopped for another hour to watch the hang gliders and the throng of colorful kites. When the Doctor spied the billboard pointing interested viewers across the highway to Kitty Hawk Kites (billed as the largest kite store in America), nothing would do but they stopped in and purchased several gaudy kites in different designs for their own crew.

After a slow, relaxing drive back down the island, they pulled in through the gate and parked the car under the house, leaving the kites stowed in the trunk for the time being and climbing up the wide front steps to the breezeway. Then they opened the door to the kitchen/great room and stepped into trouble.

Mike, Donna and Sylvia were standing together in the kitchen, deep in discussion. "Hello!" chirped the Doctor, then both he and Rose stopped in their tracks as the others' bleak, angry expressions registered. Never one to back down from anything, the Doctor plunged in, albeit with a bit of trepidation. "What?" he asked bluntly.

Donna closed her eyes, arms crossed over her chest with an air of _if I don't sit on my hands I'm going to slap somebody,_ while Sylvia didn't look too far behind her. Mike turned and gave the newcomers a harried, exasperated look. "She's doing it again," was all he said, jerking his head up and northwards.

The Doctor wilted, sighing, and Rose gave him a small, sympathetic smile, squeezing his hand. "All right," he said. "I'll go talk to her. Again. For all the good it will do."

Mike shook his head. "Well, she sure as hell isn't listening to any _humans_. Including me."

The Doctor turned to leave, but Donna stopped him. "Doctor! Wait! I..." As quickly as that, her voice trailed off as her expression turned mystified.

He'd turned back to her. "What, Donna?"

"I... can't remember now. That's so odd. I could have sworn for a second I had something important to tell you, but now I can't for the life of me think what it was." She shook her head. "Oh, well, it must not have been important after all. If it is, it'll come back." Waving him off, she added, "Go on, then."

The Doctor shook his head again, and, kissing Rose for good luck, gathered all his courage and went to confront his mother.


	8. Hannah

**Hannah**

As the Doctor slowly climbed up the two flights to the roof, dreading the upcoming scene, he thought again of those first incredible, heady days after Christmas three years before, when Donna had snatched his mother out of the Time Lock, and suddenly there were three Time Lords left alive instead of one. Hannah had seemed to settle so quickly and happily into her new life, bringing such balance and perspective, and true respect, between himself and Michael, that for the first time since Mike's odd 'birth', the two brothers were truly at peace with themselves and each other.

Tragically, her part hadn't lasted.

One of the many odd quirks of the huge old summer house was that the stairs to the roof with its two cupolas actually came out onto the widow's walk between them, rather than into one of the cupolas themselves. The Doctor turned and walked slowly to the far end and knocked on the door of the northern tower. No answer.

"Hannah?" he called out with another knock. Still no answer.

He sighed, and managed to keep his voice level. "Lady Toshana?"

"Enter!" came the reply – in Gallifreyan.

As he opened the door, the smell of oils and turpentine hit him with an almost palpable jolt, and he walked into the center of an art gallery. Well, the storage room of one, anyway. At least sixty paintings were stacked against the walls and furniture and propped up on tables and chairs all around the outside edge, spread out as far as they could be, so that silvers and oranges and bronzes and reds jumped out at his eyes from every side.

For every single one was of their lost home, Gallifrey.

As the wonder at the miracle of finding herself alive against all odds had worn off, and the reality – and the finality – of the loss of her entire civilization had sunk into Hannah, she had retreated within herself, trying to recreate her lost world through the only art form both peoples had in common. She'd been an accomplished artist of many facets previously, and quickly came to pouring her entire soul onto her canvases – the majority of which had made the trip from Chiswick.

The artist herself stood at an easel in the center of the room, working steadily on the details of yet another canvas. With a stab of memory, he saw it was of their own long-lost home, perched on the side of the red-gold mountain.

"Do you remember the gariolis vines on the side of the house, Cavrio?" she asked without turning, and he saw she was adding those very plants, painting in the bright yellow blooms and red leaves in impossibly tiny brushstrokes.

"In English, please, Lady." He ignored both question and her childhood nickname for him.

Her brush paused midstroke, she looked over her shoulder at him. "You no longer speak the language of your birth?" she asked, obstinately continuing in that tongue.

He sighed again. "Out of practice, actually. There's been no-one to speak it with for several centuries. Besides, _you_ need the English practice."

She gave a disdainful sniff. "I need no such practice. I speak every language I need to perfectly well."

"Since most of what you do say comes off as arrogant and sneering, I'm don't think that's precisely true." The continuing alternating languages would have been amusing if the underlying subtext hadn't been so serious.

"Arrogant?" she sneered.

"That's how it sounds, Madame. Since I'm sure that's not your intention, perhaps a bit more attention to your delivery would serve to correct the impression." Diplomacy had never been the Doctor's strong suit, but he was sure giving it the old college try.

It wasn't working. She turned back to the painting again, peering closely at the miniscule flowers. "Why should I be concerned about that?" she sniffed.

"Because my brother and - "

She cut him off. "He's not your brother," she said flatly.

Jaws tight, he started again. "Since you decided to leave the TARDIS, _my brother and his wife_," the words were ice-cold this rendition, "have been providing you with shelter, food, clothing, and every brush, canvas, and tube of paint you desire, at not inconsiderable expense to themselves. If you cannot manage any hint of gratitude for Donna having saved your life, Madame, you would be well advised to at least acknowledge their continued support of your existence, and not trespass so baldly on their good natures. They are under no obligation whatsoever to continue it."

She threw down the brush and whirled on him, furious. "I have lost _everything!_"

"So have I!" he thundered in return. "More than once!" He took a deep breath and forced calm again. "And I learned to pick myself up again, just as countless billions of others have done, and start again from scratch, building a whole new life."

"Why do you insist that I give up what little comfort I have, that of my memories of my home and my people?"

"I'm not insisting you give them up! But you cannot continue to live exclusively for them. You've got to start living a new life. Gallifrey is GONE, Madame!"

"_Thanks to you!_" she hissed, and he recoiled as if she had slapped him. She went on, relentlessly. "_You_ are the reason our people are gone, our planet! _You_ did this!"

"Yes, I did." His voice had dropped to a low, level seethe. "I took the final step of putting the sector under the Time Lock. But you cannot lay anything more than that at my door, Madame. I didn't start the war with the Daleks. Time and again, I tried to _end_ it. I didn't produce the nightmares that came from that war. I didn't call down the wrath of hell upon our planet. And most certainly, I didn't plan the Final Sanction, nor vote for it, that would have ended time itself. If I am to carry the title of Destroyer of My Own People, it is only because I beat Rassilon to it by mere seconds. But in doing so, I prevented the destruction of _all_ life, _all_ time, _everywhere._ One planet, two civilizations, in exchange for _all of creation_.

"Do not think I relish the memory of what I have done, Madame. But neither will I allow anyone, even you, to pile on more guilt than I deserve. I took the final step. But I am not the one who led Gallifrey to that point, and forced my hand."

"Neither am I!" she cried.

"No, and I did not say you were. You voted against the Final Sanction, and much more besides, I know that. The point is, _it is done_. Gallifrey is _gone_. And you are not. Whether you like it or not, you will be spending the _rest of your life_ among other species, not Time Lords. But if you cannot learn to accept that, and them, and meet them as equals, then you will sentence yourself to naught but endless misery and loneliness. And I do not wish to see you so reduced, Mother." His voice had slowly lost its heat during the last speech, and he ended it almost tenderly, surprising even himself with the unconscious switch from Madame to Mother – a term he almost never used.

Something sparked at the back of Hannah's eyes, and he thought for a moment he'd gotten through – but then her back stiffened, and she turned disdainfully back to her painting once again, picking her brush back up and returning to her task without a word.

He watched her silently for a few moments, then wearily went back to the door. On reaching it, though, he stopped, and without turning, said "There's an old Earth saying, which frankly I never cared for very much, but that is quite appropriate in certain circumstances." He paused. "Get busy living, or get busy dying." His sensitive hearing picked up the pause in her brushstrokes, and her slow, quiet gasp, and knew he'd made that point. But he had one more.

He looked back over his shoulder one final time. "Keep a civil tongue in your head, Madame, or you may find yourself on the street." And then he let himself out, closing the door quietly but firmly behind him.


	9. The Doctor II

**The Doctor**

A few days later the Doctor and Rose crossed the bridge to the dunes and began a leisurely stroll along the beach, hand in hand. They hadn't gotten very far, though, when Rose nudged her husband. Davey was sitting alone, tucked into a hollow in the dunes, chin set morosely on his knees. His parents wandered over, deceptively casual, and settled into the sand on either side of him. _When did he get so tall?_ Rose couldn't help but wonder; sitting, Davey's head was on a level with hers.

After a couple minutes of silence, she glanced questioningly at the Doctor, but he shook his head. _Wait it out._

Finally, after almost ten minutes, a tiny voice issued from the form between them. "What am I?"

The Doctor was puzzled. "You're my son."

Davey shook his head. "Not who. What?" He took a deep breath. "Am I a Time Lord? Or a human? I've only got one heart."

It was the Doctor's turn to be quiet. Finally, he said softly, "You're human. Mostly."

Another deep breath, then even softer, "Then how can I be your son?" Then, in a rush to get it out, "Humans and Time Lords are two different species. They can't... You said different species can't interbreed, that's what makes them different." They'd been studying biology recently.

The Doctor and Rose looked at each other behind his head, communicating wordlessly. _He's figured it out. _

_Should we tell him the truth?_ his raised eyebrows asked.

Rose nodded. _Of course! We always said we would!_

The Doctor put a hand on Davey's shoulder. "You're my son because I raised you and loved you since the day you were born. Even before. But you're right. I'm not your biological father."

"Then who is?"

This was Rose's question to answer. "Your Uncle Mike." He finally looked over at her then, shock making his eyes huge. She went on, "You remember the story of how Mike came to be, born in the metacrisis from the Doctor and Donna? And that's why he's half human?" She waited until he nodded. "And you also remember how we were stuck in the parallel world for a few years right after he was born, all four of us?"

He nodded again, and she continued. "The part of the story we haven't told you is this: just after we got there, because of a series of misunderstandings, and stupid mistakes, your father – the Doctor and I were separated from each other. And each of us honestly, truly believed that we'd never even see each other again, ever. I don't mean 'see' as in date, I mean it as literally lay eyes on each other. And it hurt both of us, very very much. I was dying inside." She made a quick decision not to tell him about her attempted suicide – he did NOT need to know that part, ever.

"We both were," put in the Doctor.

"During that time, though, Mike was with me – I mean, we were hanging around together. This was before he and Donna got married, before they even started dating. And Mike and I decided... well, we thought we'd give it a try." She gave her son a quick little smile. "I don't mean to embarrass you with this, but... we only slept together once. Then suddenly, before I even knew I was pregnant, the Doctor came back into my life, and we were back together. And we've been together ever since. Mike took off for a few months then, traveling with Donna, and they got married shortly after that." She smiled past Davey to her husband, her love shining through her eyes. "And we got married, too."

Davey half-turned to the Doctor, still not quite able to look at him. "You knew?"

"Yes, I knew," he replied evenly. "The same way you figured it out. We're different species. But listen to me, son. I never held it against either one of them. Never. Nor you. You're my son."

Davey was quiet for a while, absorbing it all. Then, again without turning, he asked, "Does Mike know he's my real dad?"

The Doctor took a breath to reply, but Rose beat him, in a surprisingly low, intense voice. "Yes, he knows. He's known since before you were born. But you listen to me, David Smith. Mike is _not_ your _'real dad'_. He's your biological father. Your '_real dad'_ is the man sitting next to you, the one who raised you and loved you your whole life. And don't you _ever_ forget that."

Davey looked over at her, surprised, and she relented slightly. "'Dad' isn't a name, or a biological relationship. It's a title that must be earned, by _being there_ every day. And that's the Doctor, right there. The man you've called Dad your entire life. That hasn't changed, bub, nor will it."

The Doctor found he had to look away, tears stinging, and he held his breath while he waited for his son's verdict.

Davey wasn't quite ready to give it yet, though. After a long pause, he asked Rose, "Why didn't you ever tell me, though?"

"We never meant it to be a secret, sweetheart. It just... never came up. Till now. We always figured on telling you some time, when you were old enough to understand. Which you are, now. You just beat us to it by asking before we could tell you. Okay?"

"Okay," he replied slowly, still working on processing it. There was still more bothering him. "So... what's going to happen to me when I grow up? Am I just going to keep living in the TARDIS, traveling around with you until the day I die?"

"If that's what you want to do," answered the Doctor, making himself breathe again. "It's up to you. You can do whatever you want, whenever, wherever. Just say the word." He paused, looking at the top of the boy's head as if trying to see inside without actually linking up. "Don't you want to any more?" Then, thinking of a better way to phrase it, "Is there something else you want to do?"

If he hadn't put it precisely that way, Davey might not have been able to say it. He nodded his head, not daring to look at either parent again. "I want to go to school like Loren and Lyra and Lucy."

Rose and the Doctor shared mightily surprised glances. "Why?" she asked Davey. "Don't you like our school?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, but..."

"What do other schools have that we don't?" she prompted him.

He was silent, and the Doctor put in, "Other teachers, other students...?" Then it hit him. "Oh, snap. I am such an idiot." He shook his head, flabbergasted at himself. "I'm sorry, Davey. I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a bloody idiot."

Rose was almost laughing. "Translation, please?"

He looked at her, still shaking his head. "I've told you about my childhood, love, growing up on the mountain, how lonely it was with just me and my parents. Well... how is what we've been doing any different?" She started to react and he held up one hand to forestall her. "There's no doubt in my mind that we're better parents than mine were; more involved, more supportive, more affectionate. And yes, we're continually meeting new people. But we're continually moving on, too. You and I are the only constants in his life." He glanced sideways down at his son peeking up at him. "You'd like to make some friends your own age, and keep them, wouldn't you?"

Davey nodded wordlessly, and his father looked back at Rose, sealing the deal. "Where would you have been without your mate Shereen?"

"In Lonelyville, that's for sure. Well, then. We were talking about slowing down; it looks like we're actually stopping for a while."

"Yup. So. Where and when do you want to try this school thing? You've all the universe, and all of history, to choose from."

"Well," Davey said thoughtfully. "I'm most comfortable here. I mean, in London. This time period. And..."

"Yeah?"

"And it'd be kind if neat if I could actually go _with_ the twins – to their school, I mean."

Both adults nodded. "If it'll take you – if you fit academically, I mean. We'll see."

"You mean it? Really?" Davey looked from one to the other, incredulous delight dawning at their twin nods, then he sat looking forward for a moment, grinning and hugging himself with joy, while his parents shared knowing smiles.

After a bit, Davey looked down at the sand right next to him, and quietly dropped one hand down on top of his father's. "Thanks... Dad."

The Doctor suddenly remembered how to breathe again, and he pulled Davey into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Then Rose added her arms to the cuddle, and before they knew it, a full-on three-way wrestling match was in progress, the kind Davey had 'outgrown' about two years before.

^..^

A couple of hours later, dinnertime rolled around, and the trio gathered themselves up and began walking back up to the bridge across the dunes, realizing the rest of the clan was already in the house. They'd just reached the top of the stairs when they heard Donna nearly scream, "Dooooctooooor!" from the breezeway ahead, and they ran forward, the Doctor's long legs pulling him ahead of the other two.

As other heads began popping out of doors and running down stairs, they found Donna in the middle of the balcony, staring openmouthed at a young blonde woman standing before her. The Doctor vaguely registered another figure off to one side, before he focused in on the blonde's face, and his jaw dropped halfway to the floor as he came to a screeching halt a few feet away.

"_Jenny?_" he gasped.

She'd turned to him as he ran up, her brilliant smile lighting her face, and she flashed back to her first words after her very odd 'birth'. "Hello, Dad."

"But..." He shook his head helplessly. "Jenny, you _died..._"

She shook her own head back at him. "No. You thought I did. But I'm more your daughter than you thought. After you and Donna took off, I... woke up. Stole the Captain's Launch and took off, and went traveling."

He slowly stepped forward, one hand reaching and touching her cheek. "Oh my stars. Oh, Jenny. It is you." His infectious, manic grin suddenly split his face, and he swiftly gathered her up in a bone-cracking hug. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I left you. Oh, gods, I wish I'd known. I should have..." He let her down again, so he could see her face – and then his own face twisted in confusion. "But... how did you get _here?_ How did you find me?"

Her grin turned a bit sly. "Wel-l-ll, after a while, I ran into somebody else, who knows you, and knows how to find you." She gestured over her shoulder to the other figure he'd been ignoring, and the Doctor turned to look – and his jaw dropped again.

"Hello, sweetie!" said River with her always-sunny smile.


	10. Unexpected Visitors

**_A/N:_**_ In case you're interested, this chapter (the second part of it, anyway) was written FIRST, several weeks ago, when inspiration hit; and then grafted into this story when I realized how well it would fit. Funny how the muse works..._

_A note to my habitual readers: my life is about to get much busier in a couple of weeks, thanks to starting some new classes, so I won't have nearly as much time for writing fanfiction as I do now. Installments will therefore be coming much more slowly - but they will keep coming, I promise. Not only will I finish this story, but there are still three more in the works to come. So please bear with me; your patience is appreciated.  
_

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* * *

**Unexpected Visitors**

_Not long before, and a very long way into his future..._

Jenny staggered as she and River came out of their Time Jump in the middle of a large greenhouse. She'd been traveling with the archeologist/adventurer for several months now, but that was still hard to get used to. Almost as jarring as the sudden discovery, the night before, that they shared someone in common: the Doctor. The last of the Time Lords, Jenny's clone-DNA-donor "father", River's... what? She wouldn't specify, exactly, and just smiled mysteriously.

River had discovered some time before a time and a place she knew the Doctor stayed at frequently, so this morning, after wrapping up their business, she'd popped the two of them directly there. Looking swiftly around, the greenhouse appeared momentarily empty, and the both took a moment to take in the surroundings. "Well, at least we know he's here somewhere," River commented, pointing out the familiar blue police box tucked away in one corner.

About thirty feet on a side, the greenhouse was the typical glass-enclosed room, filled with rows of workbenches covered in all sorts of plants in all shapes and hues, many of them flowering at the moment. The air was a heady mix of exotic perfumes and the smell of rich, dark soil, with zones of cool mist alternating with drier spots. Looking out the windows, they could see the room was attached to one side of a large, rambling house that looked, from the outside, like a hide-and-seeker's paradise. To the other side was a pleasant yard, then a large outside garden encircled by a stone wall, beyond which a grove of mixed trees – no two alike – sprawled down the hillside to the valley below. Away across the lavender treetops could be seen the roofs and chimneys of a large town.

"Hello, my dears!" came a masculine voice behind them. They turned to see a young man walking through the door from the house with an empty basket dangling from one hand. His grey eyes danced with welcome under the unruly mop of tightly-curled black hair, matching his friendly smile. "What brings you back so soon, eh?" He stopped and gave Jenny a peck on the cheek in passing, then one on River's as well, to her everlasting surprise.

He walked on a few steps to a nearby workbench and set the basket down before the silence behind him sunk in, and he turned back to see both women staring at him, Jenny in utter confusion, and River in bemusement. "Eh? What is it? Jenny? Oh, no, are we out of synch again? That always seems to throw you off..."

River laughed. "Yes, we must be out of synch. As always. Doctor, this is the _first_ time Jenny's met you since after she was born."

"Oh, good grief! No wonder you're staring like that. But no... wait... this isn't right. Ah-hah! _That's_ what you meant! River, your gadget..." he motioned to her arm, and she brought up her wrist with the Vortex Manipulator automatically. The Doctor tilted his head back and closed his eyes, reeling off a very long string of numbers and designations from memory, and she punched them in. When he was finished, she read them back to check, and he nodded and smiled. "That's the _exact_ space-time coordinates of our actual reunion – a _very_ long time ago, for me. The one you said I sent you to. Don't worry, my dear," he said to Jenny. "That's the time and the face you're looking for, and I promise you I will be properly gobsmacked at your return from the dead." He smiled again, and waved vaguely. "Off you go..."

River shook her head, smiling at his absent-minded-professor act, and returned to Jenny's side, preparing to take her hand again and punch them out. Before she could do so, though, the Doctor broke in again, speaking in a thoughtful voice.

"River... you told me something once, also a very long time ago. – Have we done the Pandorica yet?" She nodded. "Good. Do you remember what you told me at the end, just before you left?" That time, she shook her head, confused. "You told me that the next time we met, I would find out who you really are, and that everything would change. And it certainly did..." His eyes had drifted sideways, in memory, but he brought them back to meet River's, significantly. "Back atcha," he said, enunciating clearly.

Her eyebrows arched almost to her hairline at this promise of imminent revelation from the ever-secretive Time Lord. When he saw she understood, he swept a contented glance around the greenhouse and grounds. "You know," he said musingly, "I think I'll stay here for a while. It's been a very long time since I had a garden to tend. I may even try growing some English peas." Returning his gaze to the women, he saw she again understood the implicit invitation. One of the comfortable – albeit very frequently decidedly _UN_comfortable – things about River was how well she read him.

He waved again, smiling his mysterious smile, and repeated, "Off you go."

Returning the smile, River took the hand of a still-befuddled Jenny and pointed a finger to punch the button on her Manipulator. "Goodbye, sweetie."

^..^

_A few minutes later, a few centuries younger, and eighty thousand years in the past..._

River smiled broadly at the 'properly gobsmacked', _much_ younger version of the Doctor, sauntering closer to study this new face of his, one she'd never seen before. Ignoring everyone else on the breezeway, who'd all come running at the redhead's yell – _what did Jenny call her? Donna? _–she reached a hand to touch the hair at his temple. _Well, this is a handsome face. But you're still my Doctor. I can see it in your eyes._

"River..." he whispered, then spluttered to a stop, not at all sure what to say. The last time he'd seen her – which was also the first time – he'd watched her die. Nine hundred years of wibbley-wobbley timey-wimey didn't always prepare you for these kinds of situations. Not to mention his hyper-awareness of Rose at his back. _Blimey_ was all he could think of.

Her hand faltered at his shocked expression and she pulled it back. "What is it? You _do_ know who I am, don't you?" Before he could formulate an answer, she suddenly focused in on the blonde woman standing _very_ close behind him and staring at her with an unreadable expression. River pulled her habitual mask on and smiled at the blonde, holding her hand out boldly as she always did. "River Song. Archeologist."

The blonde didn't smile back. "Rose Tyler Smith." Nor did she reach for River's hand – not that it would have mattered. At the name, River gasped and went very still, her eyes growing round as saucers, and her hand slowly sank down. Jenny glanced confusedly back and forth between them, while everyone else around them seemed to be holding their breath.

"Rose? _You're_ Rose?" A deep breath. "Oh my god."

The Doctor stepped between them suddenly, manic in his concern. "OK, just stop right there, both of you. Listen very closely. If you haven't learned the concept of _spoilers_ yet, then do it right now – that goes for ALL of you," he added, looking around at everyone on the porch. "River," he turned to her, "listen. I've only met you one time before now. Think about it – has there ever been a time where you ran into me, but I honestly had no idea at all who you were?" She shook her head. "Then that hasn't happened to you yet. Rose..." he swung back to the other side, "I know I told you about that time. _Don't say a word._ No spoilers_. _Donna, you either."

He looked closely at both women, seeing in their eyes that they understood what he was saying: don't tell River about her death. He had, indeed, told Rose every detail of that previous meeting in the Library, and Donna had been there to witness it herself, of course.

Back to River. "So all the times we've met before in _your_ past – "

That was as far as he got, as she held up her hand. "Yeah, I know, sweetie. Doctor. I do know about spoilers. I won't say anything, I promise."

Both women returned to their staring at each other. Rose raised her chin. "So you know who I am? Doctor... shut up." The Doctor, who had opened his mouth to shush her again, exasperated, snapped it shut with an audible pop, raising his eyebrows at her.

River glanced at him, her own brows flaring in amused surprise at his tameness. She looked swiftly back to Rose, respect tinging the surprise, and then her gaze softened as she answered, slowly. "Yes... more or less. Your name comes up.. and the conversation stops. Always. The silence that speaks louder than words." She turned it back on the other woman. "You know who I am?"

Rose nodded. "I know you're in his future, apparently very much so." She surprised River (and everyone else) again, then, by giving her a thoughtful smile. "And I'm OK with that. Because no matter what happens, I know he's going to outlive me by centuries, but I don't _ever_ want him to be alone. He should _always_ have someone there to care for him."

Before River could relax, though, Rose's expression sharpened, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But right now.. _this_ Doctor, _this_ time period? This is still my life." She held her left hand up beside her face, palm in, showing River her wedding ring. "And he's _mine_. So hands off, sister."

River immediately raised both her hands in surrender, quickly and conspicuously taking a side step away from the Doctor, and smiled. "You got it. Him."

Rose nodded, and smiled back, one wolf to another. "Good. Glad we understand each other." She turned slightly and put her arm around the young man beside her, pulling him forward a pace. "This is our son, Davey."

If River was surprised before, she was floored now. Her jaw dropped for a moment, then she swallowed hard, tentatively holding out her hand again. "Davey? Nice to meet you. I'm River Song, in case you didn't catch it before."

Davey was a hell of a lot less at ease than the others, facing the woman who, from the gist of things, was going to take his mother's place eventually in his father's life. He didn't understand how Mum could be so casual. _And who the hell is that blonde girl, and why did she call Dad 'Dad'?_ Nevertheless, he was too well trained to be rude, so he shook River's hand. "Hello."

Suddenly a highly-amused snort drew everyone's attention to one side of the porch, and both newcomer's jaws dropped at the sight of a duplicate of the Doctor standing before them – albeit one who looked slightly older. The first Doctor's face twisted with exasperation. "What in the world are you smirking at?"

"I was just thinking about Mickey," came the reply.

"Mickey? I think we've got enough people here now, thanks."

Rose shot her husband an amused glance, and turned back to Mike. "What about Mickey?"

Speaking directly to her, Mike replied. "You remember the night you first met Sarah Jane?" She nodded. "Mickey called it 'every man's worst nightmare: the missus and the ex'." Mike's grin grew huge, and he laughed heartily. "He'd be _loving_ this!"


	11. The Clan Plus Two

**The Clan Plus Two**

River was still gaping at Mike, looking confusedly back and forth between him and the Doctor. "Excuse me... but who are _you_?" she finally managed to ask.

Mike took a deep breath and held it for a second. "Long story!" he began, but then his twin cut him off.

"No, no, no, just wait a minute. I am NOT doing this six times. Is everybody here?" The Doctor looked around the breezeway, quickly counting heads. Everyone _was_ there, attracted by Donna's scream a few minutes before, even Hannah and all four kids. Most of the others glanced around, as well, and Wilf tossed the Doctor a jaunty salute. "All present and accounted for, Sir!"

After shooting him an exasperated glare, the Doctor swept his hands towards the couches on one side. "Right, then, let's all sit down, and we'll go through the introductions and explanations just once. Okay?"

"Uh, no, not quite," Donna put in, to his surprise. "Slight change of plans. Dinner's ready, and I'm not _about_ to let it go to waste." She smiled at the two newcomers. "And yes, there's plenty to share. Everybody go through the kitchen first and grab a plate of food, _then_ bring it back here and sit." She shooed them all towards the kitchen door, then stabbed a finger at her husband and his twin, adding, "You and you; skinny boys in suits. Come help me move this furniture around!"

Her two draftees shared a put-upon glance. "But I haven't worn a suit in years!" Mike muttered as he went to grab a chair and add it to the expanding circle.

Rose tapped the Doctor on the shoulder as she went by with Davey, and when he looked around at her, she cleared her throat, dipping her head towards their son and then glancing at Mike. "Right!" he said softly. He waited till they went through the door at the tail end of the line, and then called Mike and Donna over to him in a low voice.

"Need to let you two know something." He paused, and blew out a puff of air. "It's been a busy day... Davey knows the truth, that you're his biological father. He was well on his way to figuring it out himself; we just confirmed it. Sorry we didn't have time to let you know first, but there it is. Thought you should know now, before he says anything, if he does."

Mike's eyebrows were raised. He hadn't ever forgotten that fact, but somehow, over the years, had managed to push it into a back corner of his mind where it almost never saw daylight. "How did he take it?"

The Doctor looked iffy, then shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I think he's still processing it all. Too early to tell if there are going to be any big changes. Oh, but there is one: he also told us he wants to stay here and go to school – with the twins, if possible. I guess after this month is over, we're going to look around and see what we can do on that score."

"You mean you'll all be staying here, on Earth?" Donna wanted to know.

"Looks that way. No definite plans yet."

Mike was still on the previous step. Another thought struck him, and he gasped slightly. "What's he going to think about Jenny?" He tipped his head towards his twin. "Be careful there, brother."

The Doctor hadn't thought of that. "Blimey."

Suddenly Mike chuckled again. "I know that look. That's the one that says 'I'd rather be facing an entire squadron of Daleks than the people about to come back out that door.'"

The Doctor fixed him with a baleful glare. "I'd be laughing, Skinnyboy, if I weren't afraid you just jinxed us, and called them down on our heads."

^..^

A few minutes later, everyone was seated in a large circle on the breezeway, balancing plates on their knees – everyone except the Doctor, that is; true to form, he couldn't sit still with all the subterranean currents swirling around. He spent the next hour pacing back and forth, both inside the circle and around behind, grabbing occasional bites from the plate he'd left on the side table.

"Right, then," he began. "Introductions. Jenny, we may as well start with you." He turned to the others, but found himself talking directly to Davey, wanting him to understand more than anyone. "Jenny is a force-grown clone, created on the planet Messaline – " he took a deep breath and spit it out " – from my DNA. She's my daughter. And until ten minutes ago, I thought she was dead." As those who didn't know the story gaped at him, he quickly told the tale of her creation from his unwilling 'donation' to the progenation machine, then her death such a short time later. "Not long after that, Donna, Martha and I left Messaline and returned to Earth." He turned back to Jenny. "But you revived after that?"

She nodded past the tears that had unexpectedly threatened as she recalled the last time she'd seen her father, fading out in his arms. "How long ago was that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure exactly; I think about sixteen years? I haven't really been keeping track."

"And you met up with River a few months ago, you said?" She nodded again. "Then how in the nine hells of Ballanzoo did you get _here_?"

"You sent us," River answered. "I took Jenny to meet you, a future you, and you gave us these _precise_ space-time coordinates."

"_I _did?" he asked, nonplussed. River nodded. "Blimey. How extraordinary of me." He turned and shared a long look with Mike.

"Time echo," was Mike's cryptic comment.

"Yeah."

Hannah had been staring at Jenny during the story, her plate forgotten. Now she put it aside and rose to her feet, crossing over to the young woman and reaching an unsteady hand to touch her cheek, to Jenny's puzzlement. "You're a Time Lord?" She turned to the Doctor. "She's a Time Lord? There's another Time Lord alive and you didn't tell me?"

He stared at her for a moment before answering. "One, I thought she was dead. Two... I don't think she's actually a Time Lord. Not yet, anyway. I can't be sure without dragging her into the TARDIS and running scans, but I doubt she has the Imprimatur, and I'm quite certain she's never looked into the Vortex. She didn't regenerate after she was shot, she only revived. I think the most you could say right now is that she's Gallifreyan." He shot an apologetic glance at his daughter. "No offense intended. It's just that there's a whole lot more to being a Time Lord than DNA."

"But those are things that can be changed, right?" Jenny asked.

He sucked in a deep breath. "Possibly. Again... TARDIS, scans. Answers to come." He waved a vague hand at the blue box in the corner, and she nodded, understanding, and content to wait.

The Doctor turned back to find Hannah staring at him, imperious. He sighed, and bit the bullet. "Jenny, River... This is Time Lady Toshana, also known as Hannah Smith here on Earth." Not meeting anyone's eyes, he added, delicately, "My mother."

River simply blinked in slow motion, then gaped at the Doctor, dumbfounded, while an utterly delighted smile lit Jenny's face, and she put her own plate aside and stood, throwing her arms around Hannah. Unaccustomed to such demonstrations, Hannah hesitated, then hugged her back.

Rose took the opportunity to turn to Davey beside her on the couch and quietly ask, "You OK?"

He tore his eyes away from the man he called Dad, and looked mutely at his Mum, pain and confusion spilling out of his eyes and cutting across her heart. She put her arm around his shoulders, quickly acknowledging and then putting away the relief she felt when he didn't flinch away, and whispered, "It's a lot to process. I know that. Take the time you need. Just please, honey... don't shut us out in the meantime. OK? We'll talk about it later, yeah? Tomorrow, you and me, OK?" Realizing she was babbling, she shut up and waited, and after a moment he nodded.

The Doctor had caught their byplay out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn to look directly, not wanting to draw attention to them. When Rose turned back to him and caught his quick side glance, she nodded, and he relaxed slightly, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _OK for now._

Hannah and Jenny drew apart slightly, beaming at each other. "We have _so much_ to talk about," Hannah told her.

"Later," the Doctor interjected. "Hannah, Jenny, please... we have more introductions to make." He motioned each of them back to their seats, and they gave each other a last smile and complied, albeit a bit stiffly on Hannah's part.

"River..." he went on. "Everyone, this is River Song, archeologist, time traveler, and adventurer. I've only met her once before at this point, but apparently she's met me many times. And that's really all I can tell you..." he turned to her, eyebrows raised in invitation.

At first River merely smiled, saying "Spoilers!", but then she relented. "Yes, I've met you many times, though this is the first time I've seen this face of yours. And we've had many adventures. But that's really all _I_ can tell _you_..." She shrugged, and then turned to Mike, obviously changing the subject. "But I want to know about you. What's this long story?"

Mike glanced at the Doctor, who shrugged, accepting the continuing lack of forthcoming information from River, and then walked back to his plate, giving Mike the floor.

"I was a clone of the Doctor's, too, but an actual duplicate, complete with his memories up to that point. I was created in a freak accident – "

River interrupted, leaning forward abruptly. "Oh! You're the metacrisis twin!"

Everybody stared at her. "Yeah..." Mike answered finally. "Uh.. how much do you know about that?"

"Nothing beyond the word, actually; I don't know what it means. Please go on," she answered.

"Right... Well..." Mike turned back to the Doctor, who nodded and took it up.

"Back about eighteen years ago, during my last regeneration, into this face, I..."

"Excuse me," Jenny interrupted. "Regeneration? 'This face'? What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Time Lords have a way of cheating death – beyond what you went through. When our bodies are damaged so badly that death is imminent, we can use the Vortex energy to rebuild ourselves from the inside out, repairing cells and all. But it also changes our appearance, completely. Even our personality."

Eyes wide, Jenny turned to River. "That... really was him, then, in the greenhouse."

"Yes. A future him. But the same man inside. The same memories, the same personal timeline. Just a different point on it."

Jenny turned back to the Doctor. "How many..." She faltered.

"How many faces have I worn? This is my tenth. I'm over nine hundred years old – at this point in my timeline." He glanced at River, ironically. For some reason, he never wanted to believe her, but every time she opened her mouth she proved how well she knew him.

Rose felt Davey gasp slowly beside her, and turned to look at his devastated face. "Hey," she said softly. "You knew all this."

"Yeah..." he whispered. "But I guess... it never really sunk in."

The Doctor heard, and this time couldn't ignore it to give his son the privacy of his reactions. He walked swiftly over and knelt in front of Davey, putting a hand on his shoulder, but once there, he didn't know what to say.

Davey stared at him. "We're just... _ants_ to you..."

"_No!_" came the intense reply. "You're the people I love, my beloved family, and I cherish _every moment _ I spend with you. 'Cause every moment lasts a lifetime..."

Davey stared a moment longer, then began slowly shaking his head, then suddenly he sprang to his feet, almost knocking the Doctor over backwards, and walked swiftly and stiffly to the door into the house. Both of his parents leapt to their feet, the impulse to follow obvious, and called his name at the same moment, but then, glancing at each other, they realized they had to let him go. He needed to be alone.

"Thirteen..." Wilf commented to no one in particular. "Tough age, for any species."

"Yeah..." the Doctor agreed. He turned and gathered Rose up, holding her close while his ultra-sensitive hearing tracked Davey's progress to his bedroom upstairs.

Mike stood up then and took up the story, giving the couple cover. As briefly and succinctly as he could condense it, he told how the Doctor had lost his hand, regrowing it due to the fifteen-hour window, but kept the hand in a jar (skipping over all of Jack's part in the story), then used it to hold the excess energy the next time he regenerated, not wanting to change at that point. Then, with Donna trapped in the TARDIS as it was being destroyed, she touched the jar, and the remaining Vortex energy combined her DNA with the Doctor's and created himself. "So I'm half human, half Time Lord. A short time later, Donna and I realized we were quite literally made for each other, and were married. Those three ragamuffins there are our kids." He named them off. "And this is Sylvia Noble, Donna's mum, and her grandad, Wilf Mott. And I think that's everybody."

"And this is your house?" River asked.

"Oh, no-no-no-no-no. We're just staying here on holiday. We live in London, actually."

"Where is this?"

He grinned. "North Carolina, in the US. On one of the barrier islands on the coast."

River gave him her driest look. "You realize, of course, that I have NO idea what you're talking about. No knowledge of Earth geography at all."

"Different country, different continent. Let's just leave it at that."

While the others continued to chat idly as they finished their dinner, the Doctor sat in Davey's spot on the couch, pulling Rose gently down beside him. They continued to sit close together, the Doctor hiding his face in her hair. After a bit, she realized that's what he was doing, and she pulled back slightly to gaze into his eyes. "Doctor?" she whispered, as worried about him as she was about Davey.

He sighed heavily, though almost silently. "I wanted more than anything just to be a good father. And I failed, twice."

She was incredulous. "You haven't failed. Why do you think that?"

"I left Jenny there on Messaline, for starters. Just left her. Sixteen years she's been on her own."

"You didn't know she'd survived. How could you?"

"I should have." He sighed again. "And now Davey. He may never speak to me again." Unable to go on, he just shook his head, looking away over the back of the couch.

She put her hands on either cheek, holding his face still and forcing him to look at her. "Hey. You with the god complex. You don't have to be perfect to be a good father. So you made some mistakes. So what? Everybody does. _Everybody_. Even the best fathers in the universe. And you, mister, are one of the best. Don't you ever forget that." She pulled his head down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Just give him some time, love. Just give him some time."


	12. Davey II

**Davey**

The next morning after Davey didn't appear downstairs for breakfast, Rose and the Doctor walked up the stairs and knocked on his door. No answer. "Davey? Sweetheart, it's Mum. Please let me in. Please talk to me."

No answer. She tried the knob, but it was locked, and knocked again, louder. "Davey?"

After a minute, they heard his muffled reply. "I don't want to. Not now."

They shared an anguished look, and the Doctor motioned to his pocket, where his sonic screwdriver always lived, but Rose shook her head. "When, then?" She called through the door. "This afternoon?" She paused, then put just a bit of a severe Mum note into her voice. "I want an answer, David."

Finally, "Tomorrow."

She sighed. "OK, tomorrow. But I'm holding you to that." As they turned away, his hand seeking hers automatically, she shook her head at Lucy peeking out the next door. "No, Luce, let him be."

Lucy pulled her head back in and closed the door to a crack, watching her aunt and uncle go past and down the stairs. Then she softly shut it the rest of the way, crossed her bedroom to the balcony door and slipped outside, stepping over to the end towards Davey's room. Each of the balconies on the house were edged with wooden balustrades between solid masonry piers on each corner; the railings were several inches wide and sturdy enough to stand on.

It was the gap that worried her. Davey's railing was four feet away, and the ground was three stories below. _Stop it,_ she told herself. _I'm an actress, and I do all my own stunts. He's a prisoner of war, a freedom fighter, and I'm his sweetheart, come to break him out of jail._ She crouched down and scuttled over to the front railing, peering through the slats to study the courtyard and what she could see of the breezeway. Just then, Rose and the Doctor appeared out the side door and walked through the breezeway towards the bridge to the dunes and disappeared. _Guards are all gone. It's now or never!_

She picked up a chair and moved it quietly to the corner between the wall and railing, then used it to stepped gingerly up to the railing, steadying herself with one hand on the wall. Then she took a deep breath, stood tall, and suddenly leapt across the gap, touching one foot on the other railing as she sailed gracefully past it to land on the balcony floor, dropping and turning a somersault like she'd seen in the movies. _Owww. _She'd landed too hard on the other foot._ I need to practice that. Later._

She slipped inside the room – his balcony door was unlocked – and over to her cousin's bed. He was still under the covers, lying on his stomach with his head buried in his pillow. She poked him and he shot upright, gasping, before he realized it was her.

"Lu-uce! Don't _scare_ me like that!"

Lucy ignored his protests and plopped onto the bed beside him, crossing her legs and building a pyramid of knees, elbows, fists and chin. She studied him for a moment before asking, "What's your malfunction?"

He collapsed back down to his previous position. "I don't want to talk about it," came the muffled reply from the pillow.

She decided to wait him out and didn't move, simply gazing expressionless at the back of his head. After several long minutes, he sighed and rolled over, and she could see from his puffy eyes that he'd been crying.

"I look at him, and it's like he's a stranger, an _alien_. I don't know who he is anymore. I don't know who _I_ am anymore." He didn't have to specify who "he" was.

"He's your father," she replied didactically.

Davey stared at her, tears prickling, then shook his head. "That's just it, Luce. He _isn't._"

She blinked. "What?"

"He's not my father. He and Mum didn't make me. _Your_ dad did. My Uncle Mike is my real father."

"_What?_ Are you _sure?_" Her chin had come off her hands, which seemed to hover in midair, as untethered to her body as he felt he was to reality.

He nodded. "They told me so, yesterday. I'm not his son. But now he's got a daughter. He's got Jenny. A real Time Lord. I'm just a stupid human. He doesn't need me anymore."

She wasn't quite ready to deal with that yet, still stuck on the brute fact. "My dad cheated on my mum, with _your_ mum? And everybody knew about it?"

Davey shook his head. "He didn't cheat. It was before your mum and dad got married. And before mine got married, too. They sorted themselves out after, I guess. Mum said they... _you_ know... only once."

"Wow. She actually _said_ that?"

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while. Then she commented, "That sucks."

"Yeah."

Another pause.

"So what are you gonna do?"

A tear escaped, and he angrily swiped it off with the back of a hand. "I don't know. That's just it. I don't know what to do." He sniffled, and then had an idea. "Maybe I could come live with you, all the time. Then he could go off with Jenny like he wants to, and just forget about me."

"How do you know that's what he wants?"

"Huh?"

"How do you know? Did he say so? It didn't look like it, last night."

He stared. "Of course he wants to. He's always going on and on about Time Lords, he and Aunt Hannah both." He snorted. "_Aunt_ Hannah. She's his mother! Our grandmother! Did you know that, Luce?"

"How can she be his mother if she's so much younger than he is? I mean, they're both old, but shouldn't she look like Grandmum Sylvia or Granddad Wilf?"

"She regenerated, just like he does. Got a new body and a new face. Weren't you _listening?_"

"That's... that's not real, is it? Weren't they just saying shit, just playacting?"

"No, Luce, they weren't. It's real. My Dad... I mean the Doctor, he's _nine hundred years old._ And he's had _ten different faces._ The same man." He stared a moment, then shook his head and repeated, "I don't know who he is anymore. He's not human, not like us. He's an alien, Luce. A _Time Lord._"

"I thought that was just a title, like... like Doctor. You mean he really is from another planet?"

Davey nodded.

"So when you guys take off in the TARD', you really are going to other planets, too?"

He nodded again. "And other times, too. It really is a time machine, Luce."

She spluttered. "And you want to give that up?" She shook her head emphatically. "I wouldn't give that up for _anything_, no matter _who_ I had to put up with."

"_Fine!_ Then let's just trade places! Then _you_ can go with them and be their trained stupid human, and _I'll_ go to school with Loren and pay football!"

They stared at each other again. Then, Lucy reminded him, "They probably wouldn't let us trade," and he deflated. She went on, "Mum always tells us when we have a problem with somebody, we should talk it out with them, not other people."

He shook his head. "I don't wanna talk to him. Or Mum. Luce, they lied to me. They've been lying to me my whole life! He's not my Dad!" Even as he said it, he remembered Rose's dictum about his 'real Dad', and felt the guilt rise up again, warring with his pain and anger.

Lucy saw the turmoil in his eyes, instinctively knowing with all the wisdom of her almost-nine years that he wasn't as sure as he sounded. Suddenly she switched tracks, pointing a finger at his chest. "My birthday's day after tomorrow, and I don't want you ruining it." His eyes widened at the uncharacteristic accusation. "So you talk to him before then, got it?" Silent, he just stared, blinking back tears, and she relented. "Look, you always told me he was your best friend, that you could talk to him about anything. Maybe that hasn't changed. Maybe you should try it."

He looked away at last and finally shrugged. "Maybe." Another head shake. "But I don't want to do it today. I told Mum tomorrow."

"OK." Mercurial as ever, Lucy accepted his scheduling, and gave him a sudden huge grin. "So you're actually my brother, not my cousin, huh?"

He hadn't realized that. Slowly an answering grin crept across his face. "Yeah... I guess I am. Half-brother, anyway."

"You're not gonna start bossing me around like Loren, are you?"

He considered. "Depends. Are you gonna start acting all bratty and steal my stuff?"

She drew herself up, insulted. "I'm _never_ a brat!"

"Then I'll make a deal with you. I won't go bossy if you don't go bratty."

She dropped the insulted look and grinned back, spitting on her hand and holding it out. "Deal." He copied her and they sealed the deal.

Another idea occurred to Lucy. "Do you think the Big Brats know?"

"About your Dad being mine? No... I don't think so. And let's not tell them, OK? It's _our_ secret this time."

She nodded. "Cross my heart."


	13. Steps

**Steps**

Very early the following morning, Mike returned from his run to find Davey waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs up the dunes. He walked slowly over, wiping his face on his towel, sat down beside the boy, and simply began talking without any intro at all, both of them staring out to sea.

"I didn't find out Rose was pregnant until she was five months along, and by then, Donna and I were married. So were Rose and the Doctor. And there it was... Nothing was gonna change at that point."

"So you just gave me up?" came the small voice.

Mike spluttered, shaking his head. "I don't think you could call it giving you up... In a very real sense, you were never mine _to_ give up. The Doctor's been your father, in every way but the one, since before you were born." He bit his tongue on the sentence that wanted to follow, about how great a father the Doctor was, not wanting to pass any value judgments that would cloud the issue.

"And you had the twins, and Lucy. So you didn't care about me..."

"Hey! Stop right there. I _did_ care about you, I still do. I cared every day. And if he'd stayed disappeared, and hadn't come back to Rose, she and I would have stayed together, and you would have been _my_ son, in _every_ way. And I would have been _so proud_ of that, and of you. Don't doubt that, Davey. It's just... that's not the way it worked out."

A long pause. "Why did she go back to him, then?"

Mike sighed. "Because he's the one she loves, first, last, and always. And vice versa." He glanced sideways at the boy. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

"Because I don't know who he is anymore. I don't know who _I_ am anymore. I don't know what to do."

"Why do you have to 'do' anything?"

An even longer pause. "Because it's different. Everything's changed." Davey took a deep breath. "Could I come live with you?"

That was the last thing Mike had expected. "Whoa!" He spluttered, then made himself stop and think. Finally, "It's not my decision to make, _at all_, Davey. And you know that. But if that decision ever _were_ to be made... Of course! There will _always_ be a place for you with me." He was trying to ignore the echoes from his talk with Rose, telling her the same thing. _Ye gods and little fishes, how did I get into this ridiculous situation?_ "But before you go packing your stuff up, I want you to promise me that you'll give them one more chance. Both of them. All right?"

Davey didn't answer right away, and Mike leaned over, bumping shoulders and putting his face up next to the boy's where he couldn't be ignored. "All right?" he asked again.

"OK," came the mumbled reply.

"OK." Mike leaned back on his elbows on the steps again, crossing his ankles and gazing at the waves. After a couple of minutes, he broke the silence. "Where were you yesterday?"

"I stayed in my room."

"Was Lucy with you?"

"Yeah. She brought up the Monopoly game and we played that all afternoon."

"Who won?"

"She did. I think I owe her about a million dollars."

Mike laughed, and then suddenly stopped, sighing heavily. When he spoke again, his voice was pitched just a single notch louder. "So tell me, Doctor, when did you develop the habit of sneaking up behind people?"

"About the same time you developed the habit of being where I want to be," came the answer from the top of the stairs. Davey caught his breath, and stared hard at the sand by his feet, while Mike swiveled around sharply.

"Owwwww?" Half sharp complaint, half query, he stared at his twin.

"Sorry. I'm a bit... on edge."

"No shit." Mike turned back, but before he got up he bumped Davey's shoulder again. "I'll talk to you later, OK?" Davey nodded, still staring down, and Mike stood and began climbing the stairs. "You know, Doctor, either you and I need to go out and get roaring drunk together, or we should just book a boxing ring and have it out that way."

The Doctor wasn't sure if he was serious or not – but then, neither was Mike. The Doctor gave him a wry look. "Don't tell River – she'll start selling tickets."

Mike snorted and disappeared back towards the house, and the Doctor faced about, forcing himself to take the stairs one step at a time. He sat down beside his son, thinking _at least he didn't run off,_ and flashed back to his day trip with Rose. "I'm listening, Davey. Please talk to me."

There was a long silence as they both stared out to sea. The Doctor spied a dark spot bobbing about and realized it was a head: _Someone's out for an early morning swim._ At last Davey shrugged and said for what felt like the umpteenth time, "I just don't know what's real anymore." He wasn't sure whether the repetition was making the situation graver or more ridiculous. "I feel like... everything's upside-down. I don't know who anybody is."

The Doctor considered for a long time, controlling his impulse to simply run his gob for once. "I guess there _have_ been some big changes. They didn't seem so big to me at first, but I guess that's a matter of perspective, isn't it? But Davey... " He stopped for a moment, then went on, feeling his way through the forest of words. "None of us has been putting on an act. We're all the same people we were before. You just know a bit more about us than you did before. I guess... all I can do is ask you to give us some time to prove it. And most of all, give _yourself_ some time to absorb this new information, and adjust to it. Can you do that?"

Davey didn't answer right away, and the Doctor went on. "Davey, a lot has changed, and a lot more _will_ change, but a whole lot _hasn't_ changed, either. You're still my son, and I still love you so very much, and I always will. _Always._"

The boy started shaking his head at that, and finally some of his pain bubbled to the surface. "But you don't need me anymore. You've got _Jenny_ now. She's your _real_ daughter. A _real_ Time Lord. You don't need a stupid human kid around any more."

The Doctor's jaw had dropped, and he was staring now, aghast. "You think that's what's going on here? You think that's all I care about? That I'm just going to run off and forget you now? Davey..." He spluttered, shaking his head. "People are NOT interchangeable! Especially your own children! You don't just exchange one for another!"

He paused, fighting to bring his voice back under control. "Yes, I am _overjoyed_ that Jenny's alive, and that I can spend some time with her now and get to know her, and maybe be a bit of the father to her that I never had the chance to be before. But... please, listen to me. That _doesn't_ mean I'm going to leave you, or forget you exist. I could _never_ do that. Davey, you're my _son_... and I love you, so very very much." His voice was low now, intense. "You mean more to me than anyone ever has, or ever will, save one: your Mum. The two of you are my entire life. That will _never_ change."

"Until you regenerate." Davey's flat declaration stopped his father cold. "Isn't that right?" He turned and looked at him at last.

"No. Not even then," he said with quiet emphasis. "I will never stop loving you the way I do now."

"Then why was Mum so upset when you almost did it before we came here? If nothing changes, then what was she so upset about?"

The Doctor turned and stared out to sea, struck hard. "I didn't say nothing changes. I _will_ change. It _is_ like a death. I'll be a different man, even though I'll still love her, and you, as much as I do now." Finally, he looked back into his son's eyes. "And yes, that's inevitable, as much so as your own death someday. But Davey... that incident frightened me as much as it did your Mum, and I already promised her that I'm going to start being much more careful than I have been, to postpone the inevitable for as long as I absolutely can. I've gone the equivalent of human lifetimes before, and I will this time, too. We've already decided to stop traveling for a while, while you go to school. And when we do travel, we're going to do it as safely as we can manage, and not go looking for trouble."

He sighed. "Everything changes eventually. All we can do, any of us, is recognize what we've got when we've got it, and hold on to it for as long as we can, squeezing every drop of love and joy and wonder out of every minute we've got. That's the same for Time Lords as it is for humans. No different. We'd be having this same conversation – at least I hope we would, I hope I'd be smart enough to tell you this – even if I were human like you, or you were a Time Lord like me."

Getting back to the main point, he added, "I'm not going anywhere, son. Not for a long, long time." He hesitated. "Will you give me a chance to prove that? Please?"

Another long silence, but then, finally, Davey said "OK", his voice small and shaky. The Doctor sighed in relief. It was enough to be going on with, at least.

They turned by mutual accord back to the ocean again, and noticed the swimmer was walking up out of the waves right in front of them. A dark shadow against the rising sun, it wasn't until she was quite close that she resolved into River. "Good morning!" she called. "I do like this ocean; it's clean and cool – the perfect swimming temperature." She scooped her towel off the railing where it had hung unnoticed till now, and began blotting the water off her face. Suddenly she stopped and grinned at the Doctor. "You know, some day you're going to stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" came the querulous reply.

"That danishta in the torchlight look. I won't bite, I promise." She shook her head. "You've been alone too much of your life." Catching Davey's affronted look, she added hurriedly, "Hold on, that didn't come out right. I don't mean completely alone. I meant without other time travelers around. You're too used to being the only one who knows anything about the future, Doctor; you can't stand someone else knowing things that you don't. Drives you mental every time."

Rose's dry chuckle came from the top of the stairs, startling all of them. "Oh, you've got him pegged, for sure. I'm convinced now: you definitely know him." She climbed down the steps, sharing a grin with the other woman.

The Doctor tilted his head way back, shooting his wife an irritated glance. "Now you're ganging up on me." He looked back at Davey. "You gonna let them do that?"

"Do I have a choice? I'm just a kid, here," came the grinning reply.

"Oh, that's convenient," grumbled his Dad. "I'm going for a walk." He lurched to his feet and walked swiftly away down the beach. Rose's jaw dropped in surprised amusement, then she laughed and let him go, taking his place on the bottom step.

"Just so you understand," River began seriously. "I never tease him about the past – his, mine, or the universe's. And I certainly won't start now."

"But you _do_ take care of him, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I do my best. And I always will."

Rose gave the woman from the future her brilliant smile. "Thank you."


	14. Jenny

**Jenny**

Back from his snit, the Doctor wandered into the kitchen in search of a late breakfast, and found Jenny leaning back against the counter, deep in thought. "Hey, there!" He gave her a broad, welcoming smile. "Haven't seen you since you got here – you've been holed up with Hannah. Are you enjoying your visit?"

She gave him a long, level look, then finally smiled back. "I've learned more than I ever thought possible about my people and my homeworld, that's for certain. Her paintings are so incredibly beautiful. But..." The smile slowly dribbled away. "Hannah is..."

He sighed, and leaned against the counter beside her. "Hannah is still struggling with the loss of Gallifrey, and all the rest of the Time Lords. She and I, and now you, are the last."

Her eyes were wide with shock – but perhaps not surprise. "It _is_ gone, then? I thought it might be, from some of the things she said – and a lot of what she didn't. What happened?"

He sighed again, heavily. "There was a war, between the Time Lords and a race called the Daleks. It went on for centuries, on and off. Finally... the Daleks were inches, seconds away from winning, from completely annihilating the Time Lords, and Gallifrey. But they weren't going down easy. The Council President, a man named Rassilon, had formulated a plan to actually bring about the end of time itself, and the entire universe." She gasped, and he smiled grimly. "Presumably, the Time Lords – those who still remained to the end – were going to 'ascend' to 'beings of pure consciousness'." His voice made air quotes. "They would have been the only beings in existence – if you can call it that – and if it had worked."

"What happened?" she breathed incredulously into the gap.

"I did. I found out about it in time, and had the means at my disposal to stop it. I put the entire planet and its surroundings – which included the entire Dalek fleet, as well as every other Time Lord – into a Time Lock, sealing it up tight. I only beat Rassilon – or the Dalek's final surge, for that matter – by seconds." He shrugged, as if the memory was nothing, as if it didn't keep him running, burning across his mind and conscience every minute of his life and color every action he took – or didn't take. "I didn't think the chance for that handful to ascend was worth the end of the universe, and all the rest of the literally countless gazillions of lives in it."

"And Hannah?"

"She was one of only two Councillors who voted against it. All the others, who approved... well. I parted company with my people a _very_ long time ago, both physically and philosophically. I can't speak for their state of mind or their goals. Anyway... a few years ago, the Time Lock was temporarily disabled by another Time Lord, the only other one I know of who had avoided it. I managed, with the help of the others here," he waved a hand vaguely around the house, "to send them back. Right at the end, though, Donna managed to pull Hannah out of harm's way. Saved her life."

"The other Time Lord..."

He took a deep breath. "I need to warn you about him. He calls himself the Master. He went into the Lock at the last moment, but... There have been many, many other times I've thought him dead, and he always managed to come back. I won't count him gone for good until... well, I never will. But please, Jenny, hear me. Be always wary of him. Some day you may run into him, and I may not be around. Be very, very careful. I won't call him evil, exactly, but he's the original self-centered god. He only cares about himself, quite literally. He'll send whole planets of people to their death to gain a little more life for himself, without a second thought. If you ever run into him, turn around and run the other direction. I mean that literally."

"OK, I will."

He glanced at her, a wry smile crossing his lips, and forbore mentioning how many times he'd heard that promise before.

Jenny backtracked. "Then Hannah... is suffering from a massive case of survivor's guilt."

He nodded. "As well as an equally massive case of culture shock." He shook his head. "I don't think she's _ever_ lived anywhere but Gallifrey, surrounded by Time Lords. Oh, I know she traveled here and there, from time to time, but never for very long, and she never settled down and _lived_ elsewhere, among other people, and had the chance to accept them as equals." He paused. "It takes a hell of a lot of getting used to."

She was thoughful. "That's why..." Catching his interested glance, she shrugged. "Just some of the things she's said."

"She doesn't think very highly of humans, is what you mean. I'm very well aware of it."

She gave him a serious look. "She's got a tough life ahead, then, if she can't adjust."

He sighed again. "I know that. And I'm trying to help her. I've tried all sorts of ways. I just can't seem to get through. She doesn't approve of my lifestyle, either, or my close association with humans – either in general or in particular."

A deep breath, as another piece fell into place. "That's why..." She repeated herself, then paused again. "I mentioned Mike a couple of times, and she just... shut down. As if she hadn't heard me at all."

"Right. He's a real thorn, for her. She accepted him at first, but then, as time went on..." The Doctor shook his head sadly. "It's been very, very hard for Mike, especially as she's living under his roof."

"Why is that? I would have thought she'd be living with you."

Another shrug. "Doesn't approve of my lifestyle, remember? All that running... butting in where I'm not wanted, she put it. She wanted me to stay put in one place and Remember Gallifrey, as if devoting my life to it would bring it back." He bit off the incipient rant, and gave her another small smile. "I appreciate your understanding, Jenny."

She smiled back. "Hey. She's my grandmother, after all."

"Yes, she is." His smile broadened to a grin, then they both turned and gazed away, deep in thought. After a moment, he asked in a small voice, "Do you resent me, Jenny? For leaving you behind? For not being there for you?"

Her look this time was puzzled. "You didn't know!"

"That's a rationalization, not how you feel," he accused.

She thought about it, and shook her head. "But it's also how I feel. No, I don't resent you, Dad. You didn't know. I've missed you, though."

"And I've missed you, terribly." He slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "I'm so glad you're here now."

"Me, too." They went back to silent contemplation; Jenny puzzling over what brought the last bit on. Without turning, she dared ask, "Do you resent her? Was she not there for you? Is that why you asked?"

Struck, he stood still, thinking it over. Finally, he admitted, "I hadn't thought about it for a very, very long time... but you're right. She wasn't there, when I was young, and needed her. And I guess I did resent her for it, a little. Her and my father both. Neither one was there." He shook his head, then. "But that was over a very, _very_ long time ago."

"You're older than she is now, aren't you? With all the time traveling you've done?"

"Yes. More than twice as old, in fact. Which really warps my brain sometimes." They shared another grin, and he went on, musingly. "You, me, and Hannah. The last three Time Lords. What a trio we make."

"Wait a minute. What about Davey? Isn't he...?"

"No. He's human. He's..." A very long pause. "He's not my biological son, Jenny. Which fact he only found out the same day you arrived. And he's struggling with that, too. I'd appreciate it if..." He stopped, unsure of what he was asking.

She nodded anyway. "Sure thing. I'll be nice to my baby brother. Wasn't planning otherwise."

He gazed at her deeply for a moment, then commented, only half joking, "You know, for someone who was born to be a soldier, Jenny, you are one incredibly nice, thoughtful, considerate individual."

She looked at him sharply, then grinned again. "Good breeding. It always shows."


	15. Day Trip

**Day Trip**

At last Lucy's big day had arrived, and after a big breakfast of banana pancakes and sausages (Lucy's choice, of course) the clan was gathering on the patio for their getaway. Sylvia, who wasn't going, was watching the Doctor fiddle with Rose's mobile phone and another gizmo he'd removed from the house wall next to the TARDIS, whizzing his sonic against first one and then the other.

"What in the world are you doing?" she asked.

"Making sure these are still synched." He looked up at her and smiled. "This is how I've been keeping us in synch all these years: the 'superphones' I gave Rose and Donna. They're connected to each other. So no matter where or when we go in the TARDIS, when we get back, the same amount of time has passed for you as for us. This gadget," he held up the one from the wall, "is the homing beacon Mike put out for us to land on. I'm making sure it will bring us back to this same day after our day trip."

Sylvia smiled back. "I never thought about that – never even occurred to me that you needed to do it. I guess I'm not much of a time traveler."

"Well, you never went somewhere and then showed up back home twelve months late rather than twelve hours," Rose told her, grinning at her mate. "That wasn't fun, believe me. Mum thought I had been murdered, had all sorts of posters up all over the neighborhood. This works much better."

"So, are we all ready?" the Doctor asked at large, changing the subject. "Who all is going?" He skipped over Rose and Davey, and Mike and his family; obviously they were all itching to be off. "Wilf? You're going?"

Grandad grinned under his fishing hat and nodded. "Wouldn't miss it!"

"Sylvia? No? You're sure? River? Jenny?"

"No, we're staying behind this time. Go on, we're fine," River replied.

Jenny nodded. "We'll keep Hannah and Sylvia company for the day."

Hannah wasn't even there, not that anyone had expected to see her. "All right, then, all aboard!" The Doctor opened the TARDIS door with a flourish and swept the travelers inside.

"Where are we going?" Loren couldn't contain himself any longer. The destination had been kept a mystery from the start; the Doctor's and Rose's birthday present to their niece.

"Ah-ah-ah! You'll find out soon enough! Just find a spot and hang on!" As the kids grinningly complied, draping themselves over railings and coral branches, the five adults ranged around the console.

"We're not traveling in time are we?" Donna asked.

"Of course not. I promised, remember?" When they'd returned from the other world, Donna had extracted a promise from the Time Lord to never take her kids out of time until they were older. (After some debate, they'd compromised on sixteen.) "So, Wilf, you're standing by the time bank. Keep that dial steady, and don't let that pump there start moving by itself. Coordinates already entered and double-checked. Mike, you got that side?" His twin nodded, and then showed Donna what to do on her part, while Rose simply smiled at her husband from her usual station opposite his. A few bumps and sways, and they had arrived.

The Doctor motioned Lucy to the front of the line at the door, and reached beyond her to sweep it open. The kids tumbled out, looking around – and yelled in delight to find themselves inside Disney World in Florida: the TARDIS had tucked itself away against the side of Space Mountain. "Well, that's one way to avoid those ridiculous ticket prices," murmured Donna – but she wasn't complaining too hard.

There followed a day from a Disney movie, full of sunshine and laughter and snowcones – all five adults had as much fun as the kids. Loren stuffed himself too full of cotton candy, and lost it on the Astro Orbiter, but managed to keep up with Lyra as she raced on to the next ride even so. Late that afternoon Mike finally relented and allowed the kids to descend upon one of the myriad of souvenir shops in the park. "Just ONE item per person! ONE! So make _absolutely certain_ it's the one you want. – Except Lucy, the birthday girl gets two!" And he grinned at his youngest daughter.

"Does that limit go for us, too, Dad?" Rose asked impishly.

"It certainly does!" he replied. Then he spied something at the counter, and turned quickly to Donna. "What's your favorite Disney character, love?"

"Hmm. Let me see. Ah, I know: Tinkerbell! Why?" He didn't answer but with a grin, and began meandering "aimlessly" around the store, keeping an eye on Lucy and Davey. Donna shook her head and turned the other way to try to catch up with the twins, who had made it a remarkable distance away through the large shop and the crowds in those few seconds. As she worked her way nearer them, she bumped into the Doctor again, poking through a huge bin of plastic figurines as if trying to find the one live tadpole.

"You know what this place reminds me of?" she asked him, and he shook his head. "Shan Shen. You remember, the place with that open-air market, where we had the 'foamy stuff' to drink? It was our last trip together..."

He smiled down at his old best friend. "It certainly was. Remember how Mike and I tried for months to replicate that 'foamy stuff' in the other world? We never did get the recipe right. I should take Rose back there and get samples and try again."

"Oooh, yummy!" She squeezed past him towards the twins, absent-mindedly reaching up behind herself with one hand and brushing at her back.

"Donna?" he called after her, puzzled concern in his voice.

She turned back. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"You're wiping at your back."

"So?" She shook her head, bewildered, and came up with a reason. "I guess I felt something on my back. So what?" Before he could reply, she spied trouble. "Oi! You two, cut it out! ONE item per person!" And she moved off to separate her squabbling youngsters.

The Doctor stared after her for a moment, then shrugged and went back to the bin.

^..^

While Donna was distracted, Mike managed to slip quickly through the register, pocketing his prize with a wink at the cashier for her rapid assistance. Then he did a quick turn through the store, rounding everyone up and herding them back through the register line with their chosen trinkets. Outside in the sun, they paused for a moment to don their silly hats and take the toys out of their packaging, but then Donna caught a glimpse of Wilf sagging slightly.

"Grandad! You OK? You look worn out!"

"I am a bit tired, sweetheart. Would you mind if I sat the next few rides out? I'd like to find a nice shady spot and sit down for a spell."

"Only if I can join you. My feet hurt."

Rose spied a patio full of tables under the huge awning of a nearby hot dog stand, and sent the kids through the crowd as an advance guard. Within seconds, they found a table at the back, and Wilf sat down gratefully, Donna beside him.

"Are you sure you're all right?" the Doctor asked him. "You look almost gray."

"I'm fine, I'm fine! You go on! Swing back around and get us in half an hour."

Mike knelt down beside Donna's chair. "Would you like me to stay with you?"

Her mouth quirked at his transparency. "Oh, do try to say that like you mean it next time. Go on with you. You want to hit Space Mountain again as badly as Loren does." She gave him a playful push, and he grinned back, jumping to his feet. He leaned over and pecked her cheek before turning and dashing after the others.

Donna watched him go, but her smile faded as she saw him turn back to Rose with a huge grin, tossing off a comment that made her laughter spill out across the sidewalk before he raced off after the kids ahead. The Doctor, holding Rose's hand as always, looked sideways at her with an inscrutable look – and then they were swallowed up in the crowd.

A heavy sigh escaped Donna's lips, and she dropped her eyes to stare at the table, lost in thought.

^..^

"Mike's a great father," was the Doctor's comment.

"He sure is. Those are three lucky kids," Rose replied.

"You could have had more kids if you'd stayed with him."

She stopped dead, pulling him around too when he took two more steps. She stared levelly at him for a beat, then replied, "I could have, anyway, by any number of methods – you offered several times, remember? But I didn't want any more. Never have. One is enough for me." She kept staring at him to make sure he got the point.

He did. Squeezing her hand, he managed a sheepish note. "Just checking."

Blowing an exasperated snort, she started walking again without another word – but she squeezed his hand back and didn't let go.

^..^

They called a halt as the sun set, _whooshing_ back to the patio before the last streaks faded from the sky. By prearrangement, Sylvia had made a birthday cake during the day, and Donna had made sure nobody had too many snacks through the afternoon to spoil their appetite for it. After dutifully – and successfully – blowing out the candles in one go, Lucy sat grinning as she opened her presents from the rest of the clan.

River and Jenny approached after everyone else, presenting her with a beautifully-wrapped package in blue and silver. "We didn't know it was your birthday until today, but while you were gone, we popped out and got you this," River said proudly. "We do hope you'll like it."

Lucy ripped open the paper and popped the top off a box, pausing when she realized the box was wooden rather than cardboard. Glancing up for permission, she put the lid aside and poked through the fuzzy green packaging material inside, revealing a plain-looking doll. She did her best not to let her disappointment show, but River smirked anyway. "Touch the face," she urged the girl.

Lucy glanced at her, puzzled, then did as instructed – and gasped, as the doll's face and clothes began to morph before her eyes. Suddenly she was looking at a miniature version of herself, complete with her own outfit. "It's me!" she cried.

"It's an Idio-Echo Doll from Tuslavor. Whenever you touch her face, she'll turn into an echo of you that day, including your clothes. You can keep changing her to match you forever, even as you grow up, or you can freeze her whenever you like, by simply not touching her face after that."

"She's wonderful! Thank you, so much! This is the best present ever!" Lucy's eyes were glowing.

A bit later, amid the small talk, Donna asked Mike (by prearranged signal), "Wait a minute! Did you give her the card?"

"Oh, who cares about the card?" he replied, eyes twinkling.

"Men! We got her the card, may as well give it to her!"

"Oh, all right!" He rummaged around amid the discarded wrappings and fished out a red envelope. "Here you go, sweetheart. One birthday card."

Lucy opened it quickly, scanning the cover and opening it up. A small white card fell out of it, and she picked it up. Her face fell. "An appointment reminder? What for, the dentist?" _Parents!_ everyone could tell she was thinking. _Always ruining things with stupid shit._

"Turn it over," her father told her.

She did so, starting to read the name – and her voice rose to an astonished squeak. "Silverstone _Modeling Agency?_"

He cocked an eyebrow at his youngest daughter. "Well, if you're going to be professional, you need an agent, don't you?"

"Really? _Really?_ You're going to let me?"

At last he grinned. "Really."

"Oi!" Donna broke in. "That's right, make me the bad guy."

She started to go on, but Mike laughed and waved her off. "Understand this, little one. _School comes first_, until the day you graduate. _No exceptions._ This is a _hobby_ until then. Got it?"

Lucy nodded vigorously. "Yes sir!" Then she launched herself into his arms, joyous, and everyone applauded.

The party began breaking up shortly afterward; it had been a _very_ long day. The following morning saw a return to normal, with the kids dragging Grandad Wilf across the dunes to fly the kites Rose and the Doctor had bought on their earlier day trip north.

The remaining adults were lounging around the patio, enjoying their post-breakfast coffee and conversation, when suddenly an alarm bell began clanging loudly, startling them all. The Doctor was the first to realize it was coming, astonishingly, from the TARDIS, and he sprang to his feet and ran to the blue box. He stopped cold in front of the doors, jaw dropping. The Police Call Box sign had been changed.

**The Old One  
Is Failing**

His mind racing, he realized his ship could have meant only one person: Wilf. He turned and charged towards the bridge across the dunes, just as Lyra, the fastest runner of the four kids, appeared at the top step, crying out in panic, "_Help! Grandad collapsed!_"

The Doctor, with Mike hard on his heels, flew down the steps to the sand, while the women paused involuntarily at the top, staring out at the scene in horror.

Wilf was flat on his back at the edge of the water, staring sightlessly at the sky.


	16. Wilf

**Wilf**

As the two Time Lords raced across the sand, Wilf managed to turn his head towards them, raising one wobbly hand for help – and the onlookers above remembered how to breathe. The Doctor reached him a scant millisecond before Mike, both dropping to their knees on either side. Mike took the old man's hand, darting eyes making quick assessments, while the Doctor put an ear to his chest. In seconds, he'd confirmed the obvious. "Heart! TARDIS!" Mike simply nodded, gathering Wilf's shoulders while the Doctor picked up his lower half, and together they turned and carried him swiftly back across the sand and up the stairs.

"Rose! Sick bay! Open the door, make room!" The Doctor's yell sent the women flying back across the bridge, and Rose unlocked the TARDIS doors, flinging them both wide, then racing across the control room and down the hall, making sure the way was clear of clothes and clutter. The ship had already rearranged herself, moving the infirmary to the first door down. Rose began opening cabinet doors on one side to find whatever they might need, then turned to find River had followed her and was already flicking switches on the diagnostic device she'd pulled close to the bed. Score another point for the woman from the future; Rose had never learned how to work that thing, had never needed to. The two women shared a quick, tiny smile of understanding before the men burst in with their precious cargo and placed him carefully on the bed.

River handed a pair of scissors to Rose with one word: "Shirt." As soon as Wilf was arranged on the bed, Rose dove in and cut his shirt in two down the front, then continued carefully cutting down the sleeves, staying out of the others' ways, until she could ease it out from under him. River, meanwhile, was ready with the tiny monitor pads for the diagnostic machine; she quickly attached them to several points on Wilf's head and chest, and began watching the readout, while the Doctor applied his stethoscope.

Mike reached a hand up between the others and smoothed Wilf's thinning hair back. "Still with us, Grandad?" Fighting for breath, Wilf simply nodded, trying to look his confidence in his doctors through the fear clouding his eyes.

"Arhythmia. Left ventrical," River supplied, and the Doctor nodded.

"The muscle's weakened – the walls have thinned out dangerously." He dove for the medicine cooler on one side of the room, and began frantically searching though the myriad bottles and bubbles. "_Shit!_" Whatever he was looking for, he couldn't find it.

"What do you need?" River asked. When he didn't answer, she repeated it, enunciating clearly. "Doctor! What. Do. You. Need?" He glanced around at her, and she brought up her left arm – the one with her Time Jumper.

"Tais't'laxsin, with FGCM," he began doubtfully, frantically hoping she'd understand, because he did NOT have time to explain.

Even as he was speaking, and she was punching in coordinates, Mike scooped up Wilf's discarded shirt and then grabbed River's upper arm. "Got it!" he cried. She glanced at him, nodded, then punched the last button and they flashed out together.

The Doctor stared at the empty spot for a second, frowning, then blew his breath out in a huff, turning back to the bed. Wilf was still struggling for air, but the TARDIS had anticipated him, opening a small door in the wall above the bed and popping out an oxygen mask. Rose, almost feeling more than seeing the movement beside her shoulder, grabbed the mask and was putting it on the old man's face. The Doctor took a moment to lean over and reassure him. "You're going to be OK, Grandad. We've got you."

Just then, another flash lit up the room, and Mike was suddenly bending over the table, gingerly placing a small metal box on Wilf's abdomen. "Got it. Fully actualized and ready to go."

The Doctor stared at him for a second, registering River standing back behind him, ready to punch out again if needed. "Fully actualized? How long were you gone?" he asked softly.

Mike didn't meet his eyes, studying Wilf as if he hadn't seen him for a very long time. "Long enough. We jumped ahead through the phases, though." He looked up at his twin, then, and dropped into Gallifreyan. "There's a heart up there, too, if we need it."

The Doctor nodded. "Good." He took a deep breath and turned to the clan clustered in the other half of the large room, watching silently. "Sylvia," he called, beckoning her over, and she came up to stand beside the bed, taking her father's hand. Mike and Rose both moved back a pace to give them that semblance of privacy.

"I need your permission to continue," the Doctor began, speaking to both Wilf and Sylvia. "As you probably guessed, this medicine is from the future. It's what you call nanotechnology, millions of atomic-sized robots, called nanites, each carrying a teeny-tiny bit of heart muscle tissue cloned from your own DNA – which Mike got off your shirt that he took with him. We'll inject the nanite solution into your veins, and they'll seek out the damaged and weakened heart tissue and rebuild it with those cloned bits. There's no absolute guarantees, but this is over ninety-eight percent effective in the time period it comes from. There are possible side effects, but they're minimal and easily handled."

They glanced at each other and Wilf nodded. Sylvia turned back and drew breath to agree, but the Doctor held up his hand. "Just in the interest of full disclosure, there are a couple of other options, too. If you prefer, of course, we could take you to the best hospital on Earth in this time period, and let human doctors work their magic – and I do realize that they are very, very good. You'd be in the best of hands.

"Or, three, we could take the TARDIS and you into the future now, and either let specialists take this route," he laid a hand lightly on the medicine box, "or... Mike also had them grow a whole new cloned heart for you up there. You could have it transplanted into your chest. That's still an option, by the way, if this doesn't work, or if you change your mind later. It'll still be there." He gave the pair a final nod and waited.

"Dad? Your choice," Sylvia told him.

Wilf took a deep breath – easier now, with the oxygen mask – and nodded, putting his free hand on the Doctor's where it rested on the box. "The nanites?" the Doctor asked, to make sure, and he nodded again.

Sylvia added her nod, then asked, "How long will it take?"

"We'll begin seeing improvement within a few minutes, though the entire process will take several hours. We'll know whether it's working very quickly, though."

"Do it, then. And Doctor... thank you." She touched his cheek, tears prickling, and then leaned over swiftly to plant a kiss on her Dad's forehead before returning to the group.

"All right, then. Wilf, I'm sorry, but this is going to be uncomfortable." The Doctor pulled out his sonic while he was talking, and pulsed it over the patient's chest a few times. "Sterilization," he answered the query in his eyes. "Now," he went on, opening the metal box and pulling out what looked like a huge, swollen, dark red leech. "This thing isn't alive, though it looks like it is. It's going to send bunches of teeny-tiny little feelers though your skin to find several veins for injecting the nanites, so you're going to feel like a pincushion here for a bit." He carefully placed the leech onto Wilf's abdomen below his heart. After a moment, Wilf gasped and tensed his stomach muscles. "No, try to relax," the Doctor told him, and after a few moments he was able to slowly let go again, as he got used to the pricking and realized it wasn't going to get worse.

"Why not aerosol?" asked Rose, remembering the nanites during the London Blitz. "That's much easier."

"Yes, but those work best on surface injuries, on or right below the skin. For very deep tissue, needing lots of repair, like this, it's better to inject them directly into the bloodstream."

Mike had stepped back over to the diagnostic monitor, adjusting the display and adding new parameters. River joined him, stepping to his side and working with him as seamlessly as if they'd been teamed for years. "Gah! Where's the Tais'ta freq-mod setting?" Mike complained.

"There," she replied, poking though the on-screen menus and digging it out. "I told you we should have brought the new model back with us." She turned to the Doctor. "How many times have I told you to upgrade this thing? – Oh, never mind. Mark this as the first time – of many."

"It works just _fine!_" he huffed back.

"And that's what you always say." She murmured something in another language to Mike, who snorted, replying in the same tongue, too low for anyone else to catch, even with the TARDIS' translator.

The Doctor shot an evil glare at their backs before returning to Wilf's heart with his stethoscope. Several tense moments passed before the Doctor and Mike both announced in unison, "It's working!", and a long sigh of relief swept through the room. Sylvia's tears, forcibly held back till now, sprang forth for real, and she turned to Donna beside her (still seeming frozen in shock), pulling her around into a hug. Donna returned it a beat later, and they clung to each other in relief.

Over the next half hour, Wilf's color and breathing steadily improved, until he reached up himself and removed the no-longer-needed oxygen mask. "Thank you, Doctor," he breathed, still weak.

"Better?" came the beaming reply.

"Yes, much. You can tell your ship to stop whispering at me, now."

"What?"

"Ever since the first pain, on the beach, she's been whispering in my mind, keeping me awake. Beautiful things. Music, songs. I'll never forget them. Please... tell her thank you for me."

Utterly surprised, the Doctor stared at the patient on the bed, while he sent a mental query to the mind of the Time Ship. _*You've been doing that? Why?*_ He'd never known her to contact anyone else like that before.

_*Because you care*_ the whisper wound itself through his mind in reply, unusually verbal for the ship.

He smiled back at Wilf. "She knows."


	17. Hannah II

**Hannah**

Not long after, the Doctor shooed everyone out of the TARDIS infirmary, to let Wilf rest. "He'll be fine. I'll stay and watch over him for a while," he added. Leaving the door open so the light shone in from the hall, he dimmed the ceiling lights inside the room and pulled out a chair to sit next to the old man's bed. Wilf had already slipped under the edge of peaceful slumber.

As he sat down, though, he happened to glance around the room, and discovered Hannah still standing in the far corner, gazing solemnly at the patient. He watched her for several minutes, but her gaze never shifted to meet his eyes.

Finally, sighing, he got up again and stepped quietly over to her side. "Madame?" he queried softly.

At last, she tore her eyes away and looked directly at him, and he caught his breath, realizing the imperious haughtiness that had resided inside them for so long was absent.

"Why do you care?" she asked simply.

He blinked. "About humans, you mean? Or about these humans in particular?"

"Both. Either."

He thought for a moment, and chose to answer the general concept first. Her eyes showed earnest confusion, for once, and deserved a straight answer. "Because they're _people;_ amazing, wonderful, brilliant, vibrant people. Who aren't afraid to go out there and _live._ They live such short lives, but they pack so much _living_ into them! And they can accomplish such fantastic, amazing things!" He switched tracks suddenly, startling her with a question. "Do you remember the Year of the Picnic?"

It was Hannah's turn to blink. "Yes. I remember it."

"Why? You didn't go on the picnic. It wasn't any big civic gathering. It was just an ordinary meal out of doors, by one single, ordinary family – all of five people, if I remember correctly. Absolutely nothing unusual happened. Just a plain, boring picnic lunch, the kind that happens gazillions of times every day, everywhere in the galaxy. And yet... our _entire race_ called that _entire year_ the Year of the Picnic for _decades_. Why? Because it was the _only_ thing that happened that year, for _anyone_. Because the Time Lords had fallen into such stagnant decay that they were utterly unable to take _any_ action, no matter how trivial."

He shook his head. "I can't live like that. I never could. I had to go out and _live_, every day, just like these humans do. And I've never regretted it." He sighed. "Mother, you know I parted philosophical company with the Time Lord Council centuries ago, and I paid the price; put on trial, banished from their society for an entire century. And where did they banish me to? Here on Earth! Not exactly their most brilliant solution."

"You speak as if you don't miss Gallifrey at all." There was accusation in her voice, but it lacked the heat that had fired it for so long.

He shook his head. "You _know_ that's not true. I miss it every second of every day. But in truth, the Gallifrey I miss was lost a _very_ long time ago, _long_ before the last Time War. If indeed it ever really existed in my lifetime. Tell me the truth, Mother. I know you witnessed that stagnation yourself; I remember hearing you decry it, both publicly and privately. Is it really the Gallifrey of those final centuries that you mourn for so ceaselessly? The slide into never-ending war, and all the horrors it brought? The refusal before then to engage with the universe at large, for fear of 'interfering'? The breathtakingly sociopathic arrogance that led not only to Rassilon planning to wipe out the rest of creation in favor of his select few, himself included, of course, but also to the entire rest of the Council (save yourself) going along with it, damning the universe to oblivion? Do you really miss all that?

"Or is it Ancient Gallifrey you miss, whose people – our ancestors – strode among the starlanes and timelines like heroes, who weren't afraid to _do_, to _see_, to _make,_ to _care_? The people Mike wrote about in his book? Is that why you disapproved his writing it – because you couldn't bear the reminder of what we Gallifreyans had lost along the way?"

Her eyes dropped, and after a long, pregnant pause, he saw she wasn't yet able to answer him truthfully. So he retreated to his previous point, and swept his arm wide. "These people, these humans, are like the Ancient Gallifreyans. Oh, they have petty faults galore, but at their best, they are so very, very good. Even at their worst, they're full of action. And so very often, all it takes to change them from their worst to their best is simply having somebody _care._ I've seen it, done it, so many times I can't count them all, and every single time, they amaze me with their brilliant inner light." Again, he paused to let the point sink in, and again, she didn't reply. But he saw that she was listening, truly _hearing_ him, for the first time in... well, maybe in his entire life.

He switched gears again. "But why do I care about these particular people here? Because they're my family. Built and expanded one by one, by marriage and birth and genuine caring and concern. And love and respect." _Things with which you seem amazingly unfamiliar,_ he didn't add aloud.

"That's what River said," she murmured, still looking away from him towards the man on the bed. "She said she was meeting your family for the first time, and it opened her eyes to the real you, that she'd never seen before."

The Doctor inhaled deeply, startled. He realized suddenly that's what he'd been seeing from both Rose and River: the acceptance of each other as reflections of the very different parts of himself, and of his life, present and future. Rose had known from the very beginning that she only had him for a short time, compared to the rest of his life, and was showing anew her love for him by accepting this manifestation of that obvious fact so calmly. He smiled to himself, a little wistfully. _Not that she isn't going to fight tooth and nail for every minute she can get, though._ And as he thought it, something deep inside him relaxed, and he realized he was going to be able to accept River now when she did come (back) into his life, because of the respectful way his two women had dealt with each other during this holiday. And so, apparently, would she. _Now I'll just have to keep track of where she is in her timeline, pre- or post-Summerville._ He sent a mental thank you to his future self through the aether, realizing even as he did so that he was setting up the very Time Echo that would send River and Jenny back in time.

He looked back at Hannah, seeing she'd at last raised her eyes again and was searching his face as if reading his thoughts. (He was glad she couldn't without physical contact.) Still, she said nothing. Finally, she simply nodded, and walked past him out the door into the hallway.

And that's when he saw Davey.

The boy had also stayed behind, standing behind the open door where the Doctor hadn't seen him from Wilf's bedside. He'd obviously heard every word, and it had impacted him deeply; his eyes were deep black pools of emotion. The Doctor walked slowly over to him, stopping a pace away, and simply waited, helplessly, his love and anguish written on his face, waiting for his son to make the first move.

And he did so, launching himself across the gap between them and into his father's welcome, loving arms, and they held on tightly, wordlessly drinking in each other's love and respect.

Until they heard Mike scream out the Doctor's name.


	18. Donna II

**Donna**

As they spilled out of the TARDIS into the breezeway, leaving Wilf to rest under the Doctor's watchful eye, Sylvia gathered her grandchildren up close, giving each of them a reassuring hug – though she may have been taking as much comfort as she was giving. "Grandad's going to be just fine; you heard the Doctor. Now, then, what were you lot doing out there on the beach? Flying kites, wasn't it? Can you go back out and gather them up again, if they didn't fly away?"

Jenny overheard and volunteered to take charge of the kite-finding expedition, and Sylvia gratefully accepted, saying she was going to go lie down for a while and rest after all the excitement. Rose and River found themselves trailing each other into the kitchen in search of another cuppa, and sat down at the table to chat; the first opportunity they'd had to get to know each other.

Left all alone with her chaotic thoughts on the breezeway, Donna stared through the window at the Doctor's two women, unable to comprehend how they could be friends. She'd had shock after frozen shock all morning, and no one had noticed. Her head was splitting; she could hear her own heart pounding. The sea breeze ran salty fingers through her hair, and she wondered briefly if it could carry her up to the clouds like the kids' kites – and if it did, if she could manage to cut the string, if it would carry her all the way to San Francisco. Or Mars. Or maybe Pyrovillia. Same thing.

Mike had left her. Again and again her thoughts circled back around to the same stark fact, then skittered sideways from the scorching heat. He'd gone. Without a second thought. Just scooped up Grandad's shirt and grabbed onto River, and poofed out without a word or glance in her direction. _How long has he been waiting and wanting to do that? How long were they gone? Months? Years? They certainly seemed like old friends when they came back._ He'd not looked at her since then, either.

_Of course not. Why would he? I'm nothing. Nobody. Just an uneducated temp from Chiswick. _A ghostly recorded voice played through her mind; she thought it was Mike's – but maybe it was the Doctor's. "Shouting at the world 'cause no one's listening. And why should they?"

_Right. Why should they? I'm not River. I'm not Rose. I'm not anybody._

Suddenly a new voice answered the first; a voice that came snaking out from deep, deep within her psyche. _But I was... I was somebody once. I was special. For one brief day, a few heavenly hours, I was a GOD. I was a Time Lord. The DoctorDonna._

Again, she heard a ghostly recording, one that shocked her (once again) to her core, for she realized instantly this voice was her own... "Cause you were just Time Lords, you dumbos, lacking that little bit of Human, that gut instinct that comes hand-in-hand with Planet Earth – I can think of ideas you two wouldn't dream up in a million years! Oh, the universe has been waiting for me!"

Her hands rose of their own volition, seeming to type in commands into a nonexistent keyboard before her, flying across to throw switches and levers that would... that would... Again, her own voice came floating across the years: "Used the biofeedback shielding to exacerbate the Dalekenium interface, thus inculcating a trip-stick circuit-breaker in the psychokinetic threshold manipulator!"

"Donna? … Donna?" At first, she didn't realize the voice was coming from her immediate surroundings, so lost in memory was she. Then she turned and saw Mike standing between her and the TARDIS, staring at her with concern. "Are you all right?"

She stared back at him in growing anger, as pieces of the puzzle so long and well hidden that she hadn't even known the puzzle existed began falling into place. "You took it from me," she whispered. "I had everything. I _was_ everything. And you took it from me!"

Mike shook his head, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"The DoctorDonna. Me. I was everything I ever wanted to be. Everything you want. And it's gone."

"Everything _I_ want? Donna, no..."

"Isn't that what you want? A Time Lord? Or some grand adventuress? You left me today. Just left me behind, without a backward glance. Was it even 'today' for you? How long were you gone? Days? Months? Years? You ran off and got what you wanted, seeing the universe again, with _her_. You used to see it with me."

Still shaking his head, Mike stepped forward, reaching out towards her shoulder to reassure her – but she stepped back quickly, exclaiming "Don't touch me! You want to take it away again, but I won't let you! I won't! I'm staying this time! DoctorDonna's staying!" A stabbing pain ripped through her temples, and she gasped, both hands flying up to hold her head as she continued. "And then I'll never lose you! You won't have any reason to run off with anybody! 'Cause I'll be everything you could ever want. Best friends and equals, forever!"

Mike was staring openmouthed, horrified at the sight of his wife unraveling before him. Rose and River, hearing the commotion, were clustered in the doorway, unable to help, then Rose slipped around the edge of the breezeway towards the TARDIS to find the Doctor.

Donna suddenly stopped backing away from Mike and clutched at his shirt, desperate. "Don't leave me, Doctor! Don't make me go back!" She clutched at her head again, shredding further at the stabbing burning pain. "We have to save Clom! We have to... Don't leave me! We... We have to follow the bees! The bees..." Suddenly she stopped, instantly, frighteningly calm in the midst of the storm, and smiled at him beatifically. "Doctor! It's Rose! She's coming back!"

And with that, she fainted.

Mike caught her as she collapsed, puddling with her in a heap on the floor against the couch, clutching her limp form close. Sobbing, desperate, he put both hands on either side of her face, moving in to the chaos of her Time Lord-overlaid mind. Her brain was melting, molten hot, torrents of Time Lord knowledge and philosophy flooding through it like boiling water melting away a stick of butter. He tried to catch it, tried to dam it back up, but the hemorrhage was too fast, too white-hot, and his own mind began burning. "I can't... it's too much..." he sobbed, then screamed for his brother.

"_Doctooooooor!"_

Still he stayed, linked with her, desperately bailing out the Titanic. Suddenly two more hands matching his own appeared, covering his where they held her face, and he was dimly aware of the Doctor crouched beside him, his strong arms reaching around. He asked no questions, but his mind drove into the flood along with Mike's, pushing back against the tide, and Mike threw his effort into backing the Doctor up from behind the Time Lord's mental shield.

An age passed while they battled the flood, then the Doctor found the source, and diverted it into his own mind, and the two of them were able at last to rebuild the barrier that held it from Donna's mind. Suddenly the flood stopped sharply, the tap turned off, and all was quiet again. The Doctor carefully tested the barrier, making sure it was intact once more, and then he backed out of the meld, dropping his hands at last and sitting hard on the floor beside the couple. Mike held on, holding her fragile unconscious mind in his, afraid to put it down, afraid to leave for fear she would fall to pieces, and those bits melt away like sand through a sieve.

"Is she..." he regained enough awareness of the physical to whisper.

"She'll be OK now. We caught it in time," came the Doctor's hoarse reply.

"How much... her memories..."

"She'll remember everything she did before. I only locked up the Time Lord mind and this meltdown. She'll remember up to coming out the TARDIS door a few minutes ago."

Mike took a deep breath, then several, and made himself break the connection, easing out of Donna's mind and back to himself. He moved his hands at last from her face, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her even closer.

"Let's take her upstairs to rest," the Doctor murmured, and reached out to help Mike pick her up.

Mike reacted without thinking, clutching her even tighter and hissing out between clenched teeth, "Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Wife." He didn't look up at his twin, who flinched back from his fury and retreated without a word. Mike slid a hand under her knees and struggled to his feet, carrying her all by himself through the doorway and up the stairs, while several wide, sorrowful pairs of eyes watched him go.

^..^

Donna woke up slowly, groaning and putting a hand to her head. The remnants of a headache were slowly leeching away around the edges. _That must have been a hell of a party last night. I wish I remembered it._

She opened her eyes, and realized she was lying on their bed in Summerville, fully clothed – and from the looks of the light, it was early afternoon. A slight movement beside her caught her attention; Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing partly away. He was holding something down between his knees, as if he'd been fiddling with it before she woke up.

Suddenly memory flooded back, and she struggled to sit up. "Grandad?"

He turned towards her, reached with the nearer hand and gently pushed her back down. "He's fine, Donna. He's fine. He's still resting in the TARDIS."

"What the hell happened? How did I get up here?"

He gazed at her sorrowfully for several seconds, then took a deep breath before answering. "You collapsed, love." His mouth twitched. "You had a relapse. Hi, I'm Mike Smith."

She gaped at him, then suddenly flashed back to another time she'd woken up in her clothes, and he'd told her the same thing: on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay all those years ago. "That's not very damn funny, Mike. What happened?"

"You had a relapse, like I said. The mental barrier broke, and DoctorDonna tried to come back. You almost _died_ today, Donna. No, it's not funny. I guess... I guess I've gotten so used to you being OK that I forgot to keep watching out for it." He squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment, and she saw the tears behind them. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was my fault. I'm so sorry."

"I... I'm OK though?" Her voice shook.

"Yeah, you're OK now. The Doctor was able to catch it and rebuild the barrier. I tried... I tried to do it, but I couldn't. It was too much for me. I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry..."

She sat up then and went swiftly and automatically into his arms, and they held on tight, shaking at the close call, and she whispered reassurances that it wasn't his fault. He shook his head, not believing her, but let it go. Finally she pulled back, needing just a bit of distance, and began speaking from her heart.

"Mike... I need to tell you something. I don't know what I said down there, but there's something I need to know you heard. Please listen to me, just for a minute. Please?" She studied his mouth as she spoke, not quite able to meet his eyes.

Flashing back to other recent conversations, he sighed ruefully. "There's a lot of that going around... I'm listening."

Her next words may not have been the last ones he expected, but they were close. "I love Rose. She's like my sister. I couldn't love her more if she _were_ my sister. And _nothing_ could ever happen to change that." She hesitated, then plunged in. "I'd rather share you than lose you. I know she's his, but... if that ever changes... well, it's a big house, that's all I'm saying." She closed her eyes so she wouldn't see his expression, and whispered her plea. "Please don't leave me. I'll... I'll do anything. Anything you want. If you want to start traveling again, fine, we'll go traveling. There's plenty of room in the TARDIS, and he's offered enough times - "

That was as far as she got, as his hand covered her mouth to stop her. She looked at him again, startled, and saw the tears trickle down his cheeks. He shook his head. "Donna, I'm not going anywhere. I was coming to tell you, when you collapsed... I realized while I was gone that _this_ is the only place I want to be. I mean here, on Earth, with you and the kids. I _don't_ want to travel any more. I really don't. Not by TARDIS, anyway, or by Vortex Manipulator. And not with anybody else. Certainly not River... just between you and me, to be perfectly honest... River scares the _crap_ out of me."

His mouth quirked again, and Donna managed a shaky smile for the first time since waking up. "Me, too..." she whispered conspiratorially. Then, "You really don't want to go back to traveling?"

He looked closely at her, then shook his head. Then he brought his other hand out from behind her back where he'd been holding her, showing her what he'd been fiddling with before she woke up. Her old charm bracelet, laden now with dozens of tiny charms from all their years together. Her face crumpled as she took it, letting the charms fall through her fingers like ancient well-worn talismans.

He turned it around in her hands, showing her the one he'd just added while she slept, and she gave a shaky laugh. "Tinkerbell! That's what you were on about yesterday!" She looked up at him, almost shyly. "You haven't bought me a charm in a long time."

"No. We haven't been anywhere or done anything unusual. We've been trapped in routine for far too long. We should change that. Now that the kids are old enough, the only traveling I want to do is show them _this_ world, _this_ time, the one they'll inherit. And do it the old fashioned way: by car. Or train."

"Really?" He nodded, and she smiled softly. "I'd like that." Her fingers were still telling through the charms, and she came then to her lifelong favorite: the silver filigree heart he'd given her on their wedding day. She smiled down at the memory, and he saw.

"Remember the first time I kissed you?" he asked.

She laughed softly. "I'm not likely to forget. That day held a lot of firsts."

He put a finger under her chin, bringing it up again to gaze lovingly into her eyes. "I'm very glad you didn't push me away." And he leaned in, putting his lips softly to hers. As he had done that very first day, all those years ago in another universe, he put both his arms around her, bringing her into his world, and they didn't go back downstairs again until the following day.


	19. Michael II

**Michael  
**

The following morning, Mike and Donna walked down the stairs arm-in-arm, running into Rose and the Doctor in the living room. As the other couple smiled their good mornings, Donna dropped Mike's arm and crossed to his brother, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you for saving my life again," she whispered, and he grinned.

"You're welcome, sis," he replied. He didn't call her that very often, and she grinned back. He looked past her then to his brother, and his smile faded; Mike was gazing at him solemnly.

"May I have a word with you in private, Doctor?" Mike asked with a formal air. "Ladies, if you'll excuse us please..."

Rose glanced her question at Donna, who shrugged back, equally mystified. Mike hadn't said anything of this to her. They turned and went together towards the kitchen, and the Doctor turned back towards Mike again, waiting.

Mike took a deep breath. "I need to ask something of you, against _what you owe me._" He emphasized the last few words, reminding the Doctor of their tense conversation on the foggy beach just after their arrival.

His twin nodded, remembering. "Ask," he said simply.

Another deep breath. "If the three of you are going to be staying put, and hanging around here long-term while Davey goes to school," he began slowly, "then for the sake of my marriage, and my sanity, I need to ask you to find another place to stay." He raised both hands placatingly. "I don't care if it's just down the block. I don't care how often you come to visit. I don't care if either or both of you come every day and help out in the shop – in fact, that'd be great, I'd have more time to write," he added side-note as the thought struck him. "It's just..."

"Sleeping under the same roof," supplied the other.

Mike nodded. "Exactly. Even having the TARDIS in the back garden is just... too close for comfort sometimes."

"Understood. No problem. Consider it done."

Mike gazed at him a moment longer, seeing he really did understand, and nodded. "Thank you."

They turned of one accord and started towards the kitchen, but then the Doctor stopped suddenly as an idea hit. "You say we could come work in the shop?" Mike nodded, and he grinned. "Does that mean you'll pay us for it?"

Mike looked his surprise at this utterly uncharacteristic consideration for _money_ on the part of the Time Lord, and the Doctor's grin widened. "If we'll be living as humans, we're going to need money to live on. That much I have learned."

Mike laughed. "OK, sure. I'll pay you fair wages." Pieces almost visibly fell into place in his mind, and his eyes grew thoughtfully excited. "You'll only need eating money, though."

"How so?"

"Listen. I've got an idea. You and Rose gave us the entire cache of jewelry Pete paid for the farmhouse, remember?"

"Yeah, but – "

"Shut up. We used most of it buying the house and shop, and most of our initial inventory. You know that. But that means that for the past eight years, without a mortgage or business loan to pay off, we've been able to put a huge chunk of our profits into savings each month. Now, a lot of that is earmarked for the kids' education – and, by the way, Davey's now included in that, if he wants to go to an Earth college," he added quietly.

Surprised and touched, the Doctor's eyesbrows shot skyward. "Thank you," he said.

Mike waved him off and went on. "The rest is supposedly for Donna's and my retirement, when and if we ever get tired of running the shop. That's going to be a loooong way off, and there's no reason it can't be invested in the meantime. We'll just invest in real estate, instead of stocks. We'll buy a small place near ours, and the three of you can live in it as long as you like. After that, we can rent it out, for the rental income. We may even move into it ourselves when we retire. Till then, it'll hold our money as securely as anything else, and make a little on the side. And you and Rose just need 'eating money', like I said."

The Doctor was shaking his head, amused and impressed. "Sounds fine to me. I just have one question. When did you get to be such a financial genius?"

Mike started to smile, then shook his head, looking distinctly sheepish. "I didn't," he admitted. "Donna's been after me to invest in real estate for months; I just added the idea of you and Rose living there first." He shot his twin a pleading glance. "You won't tell on me, will you?"

The Doctor laughed and shook his head again. "Cross my heart."


	20. Courtyard

_**A/N:** I find myself bemused by the satellite images of Hurricane Earl churning his way up the east coast towards Cape Hatteras as I write this. I had seriously considered throwing a hurricane at my clan, but decided against it as unnecessary and superfluous to my various plot lines. Funny old world, though, isn't it? Maybe somebody's trying to change my mind?_

_.

* * *

_

**Courtyard**

At last the month was drawing to a close, and the clan, determined to squeeze every last drop of fun from each remaining day, was spending every available hour on the beach. Even Wilf stayed out all day, though Sylvia insisted he keep out of the direct sun under the large canopy they'd found in the storage rooms and erected just beyond the dunes. The weather continued glorious; the typical summer afternoon thunderstorms they'd been warned of stayed far afield, finding other tourists to drown. The Doctor had decreed a sand castle building contest, and the various teams took turns out-doing each other with ever-more-elaborate confections. Finally, on the next-to-last day they converged on a single huge mound, working through the entire twelve-hour gap between high tides to create a miniature, eight-foot-high Mont Saint-Michel, overloaded with castles, cathedrals, and monuments. The incoming tide began licking at the Mont's foot just as the long-delayed storm clouds began rolling in, creating the ultimate dramatic backdrop for the multitude of photos snapped by several in the clan – and many more tourists from other beach houses who had strolled by and stopped to watch, and were invited to join in the fun.

Donna, among other mums in the crowd, had been keeping an eye on those clouds, and spied lightning in the distance just as the first sprinkles began falling, so she called a halt and herded everyone back to the steps after one last snapshot. The kids were dashing across the bridge to the house, running as always, when suddenly they stopped, sniffing the air.

"Is that smoke?" "What's burning?"

Framed against the sky on the other side of the breezeway, black smoke could be seen rising into the air. Everyone made a mad dash to the far railing, and the Doctor yelped wordlessly, sprinting down the stairs into the courtyard, Mike a beat behind him. He screeched to a halt at the bottom step, though, wilting in relief as his perspective on the scene below adjusted.

"You thought I was _in_ the flames, didn't you?" Hannah asked him, an amused glint in her eyes. She was standing on the far side of a large bonfire laid on the Spanish tiles. Her son nodded, a bit sheepishly, then his gaze sharpened as he focused in on precisely _what_ was burning at her feet.

Every one of her paintings was ablaze.

She turned to face him squarely as he walked swiftly across the courtyard, tearing his bewildered stare from the bonfire to search her face for the key to this apparent madness. He halted, gasping slowly, when he realized her gaze was clear and level, stripped bare of the wounded, bewildered pride that had haunted it these last years. A thousand questions came and died on his lips, but he settled for the simple query, "Mother?", packing a world of meaning into the one word.

"You were right," she told him, deliberately pitching her voice loud enough for the rest of the clan coming down the stairs behind him to hear, "about so many things. I cannot continue to waste my life pining away for the one thing I cannot have, can never have again. And you're right – the Ancient Gallifrey I've been trying to keep alive hasn't existed for millenia."

She looked past him towards his brother. "I'm sorry, Michael, for how I acted about your book. Among other things. You keep on writing about Gallifrey. Keep the stories, the memories alive, even if only in fiction. Perhaps it's better that way, anyway." He nodded back, mute, trying to resist acknowledging the subtext of her speech, but hearing it anyway. _Is she saying goodbye?_

Hannah looked back to the Doctor, reaching a hand to touch his cheek, pitching her next words for his ears alone. "And I'm sorry, Cavrio, for blaming you for its demise. You weren't to blame for the situation, nor should you be damned for the solution that saved the rest of the universe. That hell is reserved for Rassilon, and he exists in it now and forever. Please accept my apologies, and... and my forgiveness. And, Cavrio... forgive yourself, as well."

He shook his head at that. "I accept yours, Madame, but I can never forgive myself. It cannot be done. That's the inevitable price I must pay, and continue to pay, for what I have done. No one else can absolve me of it." He waved her off, and her protests died unsaid. "But what...?" he turned it back to her, waving a hand towards the flames consuming the incredibly realistic, masterful works of art she'd slaved over for the past three years.

"Gallifrey is burning," she replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I have to let it go. This is the only way I can do that." She looked up at him and Mike, slyly conspiratorial. "But I saved the best two, for the two of you. They're upstairs, still." Then, louder again, "I need a new perspective, and I cannot gain that here. River..." She stepped past her sons and over to the stairs, where the woman from the future stood staring. "You offered to allow me to accompany you when you leave here. If that offer is still open, I'd like to accept. I'm ready to see the universe. And I need to get away."

River smiled down at the Doctor's mother. "Of course it is. In fact, we can leave whenever you're ready."

A brilliant smile lit Hannah's face. "I'm ready now." She turned back to the Doctor again. "Get busy living, or get busy dying, you said. I'm ready to live."

Devastated, he followed her again. "Must you go?" he asked. "We've only just begun truly getting to know each other."

She nodded, a little sadly. "Yes. I must. I... I need to try my wings." She smiled at him again. "Don't worry. From what River has said, she has ways of finding you. We'll be together again."

He reached out then and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly for one long last moment. Startled, she hesitated, then hugged him back – and then reached one arm out to Mike, pulling him into the embrace. He went wordlessly, trying to ignore the small voice telling him that, contrary to the Doctor, _he'd_ likely _never_ see his mother again.

River turned to Jenny, a few steps above her. "Are you ready?"

"Actually..." came the hesitant reply. She took a deep breath. "I was hoping to stay around here for a while." She looked away at the Doctor, who raised his head from the group hug and smiled at her.

"Definitely," was all he said.

Jenny's turn to swivel; wanting to get permission from _everyone _involved. "Rose? Davey? Is it OK with you?" When both of them nodded, grinning, she took a deep breath – then let it out in a sigh as she turned back to River, obviously torn. "But..."

River held up a hand, forestalling her. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll meet again. I have it on the highest authority." At the blonde's puzzled look, she laughed, tilting her head to indicate the Doctor below. "He wasn't the least bit surprised to see us, and see us _together_, when we popped in on him up ahead. He asked us what brought us back 'so soon', remember?" Eyes twinkling, she repeated, "We'll be traveling together again."

Relieved, Jenny ran lightly down the three steps between them and threw her arms around her friend. River hugged her back, then looked past her shoulder to Rose above. "Thank you," she said softly.

Rose smiled back, a little wistfully. "You'll take good care of him up there?"

"As best I can." They shared a last rueful smile for the occasional difficulty of doing that. Then River gave Jenny a last squeeze and let her go, turning to descend the last few steps to Hannah's side. "Ready?"

Letting go of her sons at last, Hannah kissed each one on the cheek, then stepped back and turned to the others above her. "I'm sorry," she said simply to all of them together. Donna raised her hand in farewell, several others following suit, not entirely sure what was happening.

At last, Hannah turned to River. "Ready."

"Hannah," came the Doctor's cracking voice, then, "Lady Toshana." She turned back one last time, to see a tear escape down his cheek. He stood tall, and deliberately switched to Old High Gallifreyan, giving her the ancient blessing and farewell of their people. "May the winds of Time be ever at thy back, and some day blow thee safely back home."

Tears sprang to her own eyes, but she refused to dignify them with a sniff. Raising her chin, donning the almost-visible cloak of dignity befitting a Time Lady, she nodded regally before turning away again.

River had punched coordinates into her Time Jumper already, not bothering to give out their destination. She looked one last time at the Doctor, a dozen snappy River-esque exit lines visibly jostling for selection behind her eyes, but finally, all she said was, "I understand now. Goodbye, sweetie."

She took Hannah's hand, punched the button, and they were gone, flashing off into the unknown future just as an answering flash of lightning split the sky above, and the Cape summer rains began to fall at last.


	21. Epilogue: Michael

**Epilogue - Michael**

The life-giving rain fell gently from the sky, hissing into the bonfire of Hannah's paintings in the courtyard and shooing everyone back up the stairs and inside the house.

Almost everyone.

Michael stood alone in the rain, hands jammed into pockets, watching the smoldering ruins of masterpieces of his home world, never seen with these physical eyes, and never to be seen again. His mother's words rang again and again in his ears.

"Get busy living, or get busy dying."

"I cannot continue to waste my life pining away for the one thing I cannot have, can never have again."

_Pining away for the one thing I cannot have. What about you, Michael Smith?_

He brought his hands out of his pockets, pulling Rose's sand dollar out from one of them where he had kept it hidden since she'd given it to him on the beach that foggy morning. Tracing the edges with his thumb like a talisman, just like she had done... Tears streamed unnoticed down his face, mingling with the raindrops.

He brought the shell to his lips as if to press a kiss into its side, but then with a burst of sudden, hopeless fury, he tossed it into the flames and stood stock-still for several minutes, watching it slowly blacken in the embers.

"I'm ready to live..." he echoed.

He turned at last towards the stairs – and saw Donna waiting for him in the rain halfway up. Holding her eyes with his own, he mounted slowly, stopping two steps below.

"I'd like to come back," he said simply.

Her head tilted in sympathy. "I didn't realize you'd left," she lied.

They reached for each other at the same moment, sliding into each other's arms as they had a million times over the years of their marriage. Then the rain began pelting harder, and Donna choked out a small laugh, saying "We're getting soaked. Let's go inside."

"Yeah. Let's go."

They turned and ran up the stairs to join the others. All afternoon, their last in the huge old beach house, they partied, and smiled, and laughed, while outside in the courtyard, the sweet summer rain poured down, washing away the ashes of old regrets.


End file.
